


Welcome to Dragonburg

by soulfulsin



Series: Dragons [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: In an alternate universe, Lena is Magica's niece and has to obtain access to Scrooge McDragon's hoard in order to reverse the curses enacted on Magica and Poe. She befriends Webby to that effect, but ends up becoming the mask and considering her more than just a tool.Meanwhile, Webby has grown up with the triplets in the castle close and it's their coming of age celebration. Dewey has his eye on Webby, unbeknownst to her, and he intends to declare his intentions. (More plot to come, probably).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lengthy author's note this time.
> 
> I wanted to do a dragon AU with DuckTales. Yes, I am obsessed, thank you for noticing. Some names have been changed, seeing as they’re no longer ducks. Some haven’t, for the sake of simplicity (i.e. Beakley remains the same). There are no humans in this world, but there is a human form if that makes sense. It’s how they interact more easily with the world--I haven’t decided if there are other mythical creatures in here besides dragons. So their human forms are like their duck forms are in the show. 
> 
> Lena is Magica's biological niece in this, not her shadow. There is implied Weblena, right now only on Lena's part. 
> 
> This is another case of not being sure where I’m going with this. However, Mirror Mirror is finished and I have no idea what’s going on with Synthesis, so I’m really only tied up with a couple of projects at the moment.

Lena was a scrawny, awkward adolescent dragon. She tried to act cool, particularly when it came to Webby, but between Magica’s machinations and Webby's effortless charm, Lena looked and felt out of place.  
  
Magica wanted Lena to use her connection with Webby to free Poe, Lena’s father, from captivity. Scrooge possessed the elixir that could allow Poe to shapeshift back to his normal, draconic self. Of course, as Scrooge was the richest dragon in the world, he hoarded anything of value. And since Poe had once tried to steal from him...well, it wasn't entirely Scrooge’s fault that Poe was trapped in raven form. Scrooge might have some magical inclinations, but they came out completely by accident.  
  
And maybe Lena would've been inclined to help Magica out...except her aunt was a cruel, manipulative shrew who made Lena’s life miserable. When she wasn't berating her for not thinking of something Magica considered perfectly obvious, she was insulting or demeaning her. And Magica couldn't figure out why Lena preferred Webby’s company. One of Magica's abilities was to sniff out lies and she could tell from the beginning that Lena had a weak spot for Webby.  
  
A geas on Lena prevented her from telling Webby what was going on. Webby would have helped, Lena was sure, if she could have. She had access to resources courtesy of Scrooge that others could only dream of. And her grandmother Bentina was the best-trained bodyguard /secret assassin that Lena knew of. They could've put Magica down in an instant...if they knew.  
  
The worst part, as far as Lena was concerned, was that in the midst of scheming and plotting, she’d developed feelings for Webby. The only reason Magica kept Lena around was that she made a good tool. As soon as she lost her usefulness, she was dead. She might be dead sooner if Magica discovered how close she and Webby really were.  
  
As a shapeshifting dragon, Lena could slip about town without arousing suspicion. She lived on her own in a rundown loft; she’d chased out the last inhabitants and it was far enough away from Magica that maybe she could get away with it. Or maybe not. Magica’s intuition was disturbingly keen sometimes.  
  
Magica couldn’t shift back into her human form anymore. By using too much dark magic, she’d sealed herself into her dragon form. That was another reason why she wanted the elixir Scrooge kept well hidden inside a vault in Dragonburg. Magica could hardly ease her way around and do what she wanted when she was the size of a three-story house. There was no subtlety in that form.  
  
Right now, Lena was anxious and peering over the short wall to see whether Webby was coming or not. This wasn’t a date; she had no claim on her, but Lena would admit some slight jealousy. Webby was known to hang around with Scrooge’s great-nephews, the Dragon clan, and Lena worried sometimes that Webby and Dewey were a little too chummy. That Webby might fall for Dewey and then realize she had no reason to linger near Lena.  
  
If Webby did that, Lena was dead too. She felt like her life was hanging by a thread.  
  
Dragonburg was composed entirely of shapeshifting dragons and their servants. Wealth determined caste here and it was only due to Scrooge’s prestige and his massive hoard that the triplets and Webby enjoyed such freedom. Lena, as a no-name le Strange, commanded almost no respect and anyone could shove her out of any establishment if they found her irritating. It really got on her nerves sometimes.  
  
The servants were families who could not collect enough gold and treasure to rise in the world. They tended to be inherited positions, passing from one generation to the next. While Magica had enough wealth to prevent herself from falling that far on the chain, she hadn’t felt the need to share it with Lena. Not that Lena would’ve expected that. Magica was far more likely to toss Lena in a ditch than help her out.  
  
If Lena hadn’t eked out her own living, she’d have been a servant too. Her connection, albeit dubious, to Webby prevented her from getting thrown into that caste. It was a weak link to Scrooge, but it was a link nonetheless, and everyone was afraid of offending the richest dragon in the world by suggesting that his guard’s daughter’s best friend was a ruffian. Scrooge was fairly even-tempered for a dragon, but even he had limits.  
  
Lena lived as an outcast. She was too poor to be considered well-to-do and earn respect, but she was too well connected to be completely thrust out of society. Most of the time, it didn’t bother her. She’d spent her entire life on the outskirts. It’d only started to bother her recently as she, Webby, and the triplets grew older and she could feel her time slipping away.  
  
Magica hadn’t put a time limit on fetching the elixir initially. Now, however, she was champing at the bit and wanted Lena to put her plans into motion. Lena couldn’t completely focus on her aunt’s frustration when she was frightened the triplets would lure Webby away from Lena for good. Louie, perhaps, wouldn’t--Louie was more fixated on gold and treasure than anyone Lena knew. Huey was obsessed with the laws and rules, so it was unlikely he’d pair with Webby. No...it was Dewey Lena was concerned with. But if the triplets were so close to Webby, they might be able to get Webby to stay in Dismal Downs rather than venture outside and meet Lena.  
  
Lena feared that was what had happened here, but she had no proof and she was freaking out over nothing. Magica’s presence in the back of her mind, always there but not always tuned into her, sent chills down her spine. Magica commanded a prestigious amount of weight on the astral plane due to her darkness and even in Lena’s mind and miles away, Magica was capable of exerting her power on her niece. It felt like Lena’s chest was buried beneath a fifty-pound weight.  
  
Lena stiffened, balling her fists. She wouldn’t act overly concerned about Webby’s lateness. She wouldn’t give her aunt any more fodder to taunt her with. She wouldn’t think about Webby at all; she’d consider the mission. Magica couldn’t read her thoughts, not the deeper ones, but she could pluck a surface one out at random and peruse it like one might a book. It was unnerving.  
  
It was possible something at McDragon Manor had held Webby up. Webby was constantly training; a near-fatal accident when Webby had been a hatchling had instilled in Bentina Beakley a fanatic devotion to training Webby in self-defense and attack. So it was possible that Webby was hung up over a new exercise. Or that she was held up with the boys. Lena tried not to let it get under her skin, because if she did, her aunt was bound to notice.  
  
Once upon a time, her aunt had been the second richest dragon in Dragonburg. Then Flintheart Glomgold had taken her place and Scrooge McDragon had fought with her, she’d lost, and that had led to their current predicament. Even the third richest might’ve been enough for some people, but when it came to hoarding and money, Magica would be second (or third) to none.  
  
Magica was prodding at her thoughts now and Lena arranged them so her aunt could read them without glimpsing what lay beneath the surface. She stifled her concern over Webby’s lateness (that she wasn’t feeling anyway, right?) and her feelings about the orphan girl far below, where Magica couldn’t reach. At least, she hoped she couldn’t. Magica could be full of nasty surprises.  
  
Lena had to focus on controlling her form. Her tail swept back and forth over the ground and she grimaced--she couldn’t retract it. It was one of Lena’s many failings according to Magica--Lena couldn’t fully assume one form or another. Her dragon traits always shone through. And since Poe couldn’t talk, Lena had no idea who her mother was. Magica blamed Lena’s anonymous mother for Lena’s physical defects when she wasn’t blaming Lena herself.  
  
She was standing near the castle, outside the gates in fact, and she looked toward the drawbridge. A small figure darted down holding an envelope in her hands. Lena saw Webby’s blonde bob and smiled. Warmth blossomed in her and Magica sneered. Feh. Lena couldn’t help what she felt about Webby any more than Magica could about Gladstone. In her opinion, Gladstone was far more annoying.  
  
Webby threw herself the last few feet and tackled Lena to the ground. Though Lena wanted to grin like an idiot, she kept her cool.  
  
“What’s up, pink?” she said. Webby hugged her extra tight and Lena hugged her back. Her tail lashed in excitement and she grimaced. Hopefully Webby hadn’t noticed that. Or if she did, she’d attribute it to something else. Webby could be rather naive at times. It was one of her more endearing qualities.  
  
((You have to get into the castle to fetch the elixir,)) Magica snapped in Lena’s head. ((You can’t do it if you’re lollygagging around with Webster.))  
  
((It’s  _Webby_  and I’m building her trust,)) Lena retorted.  
  
((She already trusts you,)) Magica countered. ((If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re doing this because you enjoy her company. That you want to be around Wendy.))  
  
((Don’t be ridiculous,)) Lena said and her heart lurched. Webby helped her to her feet and Lena stopped herself before brushing Webby’s hair behind her ears. If she did something obviously stupid like that, Magica could hardly fail to catch on.  
  
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Webby said and flushed. “This is for you. It’s from Granny. She’s inviting you to the masquerade ball in the castle in a week.”  
  
((Told you,)) Lena said smugly. ((Playing the angles.))  
  
((And who’s your date going to be? The pink one?)) Magica shot back and Lena winced inwardly. That’d be making quite a statement...and again, something that was far too obvious to be overlooked. Webby was still holding her hand.  
  
((Don’t be stupid,)) she said. She didn’t have anything to follow that up with, though, and Magica snickered. Having her in her head was so damnably irritating.  
  
“Really?” Lena said, hoping she hadn’t been silent for too long. Sometimes, speaking via telepathy gave one a glazed look in their eyes, which was a dead giveaway.  
  
She took the invite from Webby; Scrooge had actually sprung for a calligrapher, though probably not the best or most expensive. Lena’s heart lurched when she read the rest. It wasn’t just a masquerade ball--it was a coming of age party for the boys and, by extension, Webby. Coming of age parties meant that the party throwers were eligible to be courted. Lena knew that Webby was a year older than the boys and that the boys were about sixteen, Lena being a year older than Webby, but she hadn’t thought that it’d come so soon.  
  
((Is that dismay I sense?)) Magica crooned. ((Are you afraid someone’s going to snatch up your precious Webster?))  
  
((It’s  _Webby_ ,)) Lena snarled.  
  
((Ooh, someone’s testy,)) Magica returned, amused. ((You _are_  afraid someone’s going to snatch up your precious pink friend. What a tragedy that would be, if it happened before I got my elixir.))  
  
((You’ll get your stupid elixir,)) she muttered.  
  
“I know we’re not supposed to pick dates for the masquerade, but…” Webby gave her a sly smile and Lena blushed. So much for subtlety. Then again, Webby was as subtle as a brick.  
  
“Where did you want to go today?” Lena asked, in a hurry to get off the topic before Magica had a chance to taunt her further. Her aunt was snickering in her head and Lena wished she’d just withdraw and get a life. She seemed to be living vicariously through Lena.  
  
Once, a while back, Lena had tried to tell Magica off. After all, Magica had a corporeal form. Why couldn’t she fetch the elixir herself and leave Lena alone? But, no, there were magical safeguards on the castle against her specifically and she and Poe couldn’t get within five hundred feet of the castle without being propelled through the surrounding forest and into the distance somewhere. At least, that was what Magica claimed. Lena had reason to doubt her, given that Magica never told the truth unless she saw an advantage in it.  
  
“There’s a magical fight going on at the practice dojo down the road,” Webby said and beamed at Lena. “Wanna go?”  
  
“You don’t wanna maybe go back into the castle, do you?” Lena said, hoping that showing initiative would get Magica metaphorically off her back.  
  
“Nah,” Webby said. “It’s kinda cold and gloomy in there. Plus, Scrooge’s in a bad mood. Goldie showed up in the middle of the night last night.”  
  
Goldie O’Gilt. The golden dragon who was known to roam the realm searching for treasure and occasionally backstabbed Scrooge while doing it. Their relationship was complicated, much like Magica’s with Gladstone, and when they fought, the world knew about it. Lena wasn’t sure this was a fight or a reconciliation and she did not want to know.  
  
Magica couldn't hear what Lena said and did, only react to her surface thoughts and feelings. It was one of the limitations of her current predicament - she also needed the first bit of treasure Scrooge had ever found to access her full magical power- but Poe’s condition was the more pressing issue. Even magical crows didn't have long lifespans and Poe had a crow’s lifespan, not a dragon’s or even a human's. Therefore, Magica couldn’t interfere with the situation as much as she’d like, which gave Lena more leeway...except when her aunt chose to punish her for delaying. As she was doing now--giving Lena a massive headache.  
  
It pounded and brought tears to her eyes. She turned her face so Webby couldn’t see the intense pain that spasmed through her. Not for the first time, Lena wished Scrooge had done her aunt in during their last battle, fifteen years ago, instead of transforming Poe into a crow and trapping Magica in her dragon form.  
  
Webby was saying something, but Lena had lost track of the conversation. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her aunt’s sudden vengeance; her aunt was mercurial and cruel, so she could’ve been experiencing a minor annoyance and decided to take it out on her. Lena gritted her teeth until the pain passed; when it did, she swayed, feeling woozy.  
  
“Hey, Lena?” Webby said, waving a hand in front of her face. Lena blinked and then swiped at her face. Had Webby seen her tears? Lena’s stomach lurched.  
  
“How come you never talk about your home life?” she said. “You’ve been to the castle loads of times, but I’ve never seen your place.”  
  
“It’s just a hole in the wall,” Lena said, shrugging, wondering where the curiosity was coming from. As far as Lena knew, Mrs, Beakley could also speak with Webby via telepathy (as all dragons could), but she usually left her granddaughter alone. Lucky Lena, being kept on a tight leash.  
  
“You always get this pained look on your face when you talk about it,” Webby said. “You’re always sleeping over here.”  
  
Well, that was because she was trying to find that elixir, which Scrooge kept in a dungeon beneath the castle. That and she hated sleeping in her hideaway. Magica always tormented her more when she stayed away from the castle. It was out of self-preservation that Lena stayed with Webby and the others. That was her story and she was sticking to it.  
  
Was it so wrong to like Webby? Yes, she was naive and yes, she was socially awkward. But she was also caring, considerate, and loving, not to mention enthusiastic and trusting. The world hadn’t warped her or destroyed her optimism. She was a ray of light in Lena’s dismal existence.  
  
And if she was a bit more attached to Webby than was entirely appropriate, well, what Magica didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. Right?  
  
Webby interlaced their fingers and grinned at her. “C’mon. We can stop for sweets on the way there. My treat!”  
  
She dragged Lena off before the older teenager had a chance to object. Pink skirts rustling in the wind, Webby pulled ahead. Lena wore drab, black dresses, both to reflect her mood and because it drove Magica insane. Anything that irritated her aunt that she could get away with, she did.  
  
She let Webby prattle on and become background noise. Webby was talking about politics; although Scrooge was the wealthiest dragon in the world, he didn’t rule Dragonburg. Instead, Dragonburg was ruled through the oligarchs, which included him as a member, but he wasn’t the sole decision maker. Glomgold was another one and Magica ought to have been on the council, but she’d been banished before Lena’s birth for trying to murder Scrooge. Or, at least, that was the story. Magica would neither confirm nor deny it.  
  
Glomgold and Scrooge always rubbed each other the wrong way. Their dragon species were inherently rivals and their attitudes didn’t help. They could both be arrogant blowhards and both needed to be taken down a peg. Thankfully for Scrooge, he had Beakley. Glomgold didn’t have anyone, which meant he became insufferable.  
  
It was about these two that Webby was rambling about now. While Webby was observant about certain things, she could be clueless about others and Lena wasn’t about to correct her. Lena had a good notion of what fueled Glomgold’s reactions to Scrooge, but as thinking about Scrooge for too long invoked Magica’s ire, she didn’t dwell on it.  
  
She squeezed Webby’s hand and then grimaced, wishing she could slap herself in the face. What was she doing?  
  
It was innocent. It was innocent, she swore.  
  
“You sure you don’t want to be my date?” Webby teased. “We can pick out your clothes!”  
  
“Uh...I’m not much of a dancer,” Lena responded. The way Webby looked up at her tore at her heart. Webby adored her. Lena didn’t deserve it.  
  
“I’ll show you!” Webby promised. “It’s like fighting, except less lethal!”  
  
She spun Lena around before Lena was aware of what was going on. She twirled her, dipped her, and then leaned in close, her face inches away from Lena’s. Lena’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know if Webby was deliberately doing this or she was that innocent. Her heart was hammering.  
  
“See?” Webby said and straightened both of them out. “It’ll be fun. You’ll love it. And maybe we’ll have a secret rendezvous because you won’t recognize me and I won’t recognize you.”  
  
She wouldn’t recognize her anyway if she realized she was Magica’s puppet. Lena didn’t say this, however, no matter how many times she thought it. She didn’t want to bear witness to the moment when Webby questioned how much of Lena’s actions were genuine and how much was Magica’s doing. Lena’s stomach churned.  
  
Would Webby ever forgive her for her duplicity? She didn’t want to find out. Yes, it was cowardly, not wanting to be there when Webby unearthed the truth, but she didn’t know how she could go on after seeing Webby’s heart break.  
  
A crow flew overhead, reminding Lena that her window of opportunity was closing. The masquerade would be the best time to infiltrate Scrooge’s dungeons and retrieve the objects. Maybe she’d be lucky and they wouldn’t be missed. After all, what were two measly items against an entire hoard?  
  
Of course, if they were Scrooge’s prized possessions…  
  
Lena’s heart clenched again.  _Please don’t hate me, Webby._  Please.  
  
\----  
  
Magica was growing impatient with her niece’s dilly-dallying. She wanted to take matters into her own hands but as she was stuck in her dragon form, she was simply too large to enter Dragonburg and retrieve the items in question. Plus, she couldn’t be inconspicuous. Using Lena as a go-between was losing its convenience, however.  
  
“How would you feel if I murdered your daughter?” Magica asked. “Just a little joke, between friends.”  
  
Poe gave her a disgusted look. Magica had a castle too, but it was located a good thirty miles away from Dragonburg. And, as she was stuck in dragon form, she and Poe were holed up in a cave ten miles away from that. It was disgusting the limits Scrooge had imposed on her. But he would pay as soon as Magica received the items she required.  
  
Killing Lena wouldn’t accomplish anything, but sometimes, like now, Magica dearly wished to do so. She sent Lena another debilitating headache, one that drove the teenager to her knees in agony.  
  
((Stop ingratiating yourself with the pink loser, you sentimental fool,)) she hissed at Lena. ((Or I’ll make this feel like a pinch by comparison.))  
  
Satisfied that the anguish would be sufficient, she returned her attention to Poe. She’d bided her time long enough. There had to be something she could do, some angle she could work, to return to Dragonburg if Lena inevitably failed her.  
  
And if Poe died, as much as she cared for her brother, it’d be one loose end she wouldn’t need to worry about. No one else would care if she killed Lena. Well, maybe Webster, but...all’s fair in love and war.


	2. Bonus snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby is concerned over Lena's sudden collapse and toes the line of affection being platonic or otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what's going to happen in the foreseeable future. Things are rather...unsettled around here. So...I'm updating now with the stipulation that I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep my normal schedule.

Webby might’ve been naive, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew something bad was going on with Lena and her home life, as well as knowing that every time she asked, Lena deflected her. It hurt, especially because they’d been friends for four years and Webby would like to think that she’d earned Lena’s trust by now. Webby thought that perhaps Lena was afraid of the repercussions of speaking out.

  


Whatever the case, when her friend fell to her knees with her hands pressed against her head and tears in her eyes, Webby collapsed beside her.

  


“Lena! Lena!” she called.

  


When she was younger, she’d thought they were seizures. However, Lena didn’t shake when it happened and a brief black aura surrounded her before she collapsed. She was whimpering in pain and Webby’s heart clenched. Someone was hurting her beloved Lena. She smoothed back Lena’s one constant affectation, that pink streak of hair, and cupped her cheeks in her hands. They were clammy.

  


“Lena, come back to me!” she pleaded.

  


“Magic--magic--” Lena pushed past her stiff lips. She crashed into her and Webby laid her head on her lap. They were getting some strange looks, as they’d stopped outside a bookstore. The shop owner, spying Webby and Lena, was rushing to retrieve water and smelling salts. The latter wouldn’t be necessary. Lena hadn’t fainted. She was fighting someone.

  


Blood trickled out one nostril and Webby’s heart seized. The shopkeeper, a portly man with brown hair and black scales on his cheeks, halted in front of them with a glass of water. He wore a simple brown tunic and black slacks. An hourglass dangled from his neck, which Webby thought peculiar.

  


“Miss--miss Vanderroar…” the shopkeeper stammered. “If there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all…”

  


The sad thing was that Webby had witnessed this before. She knew there was nothing to do but to wait. Wait and hope Lena felt better. She stroked her sodden locks; the blood alarmed her. She’d never bled after an attack like that.

  


“She’ll be okay,” Webby said, privately hoping that was true. Lena stirred, wiping away the blood, and stared up at them.

  


“Did I say anything?” she asked, sitting up and then immediately falling against Webby’s side again.

  


“You kept saying ‘magic’,” Webby said, perplexed. “I mean, I knew it was a magical attack, but it seemed like you were trying to add something and it wasn’t coming out.”

  


Lena frowned, pale and unsteady.

  


“Perhaps you ought to come in and sit down,” the bookkeeper suggested, offering Lena the glass of water. “Somewhere that’s not the sidewalk?”

  


“I’m fine,” Lena insisted, pushing herself to her feet. She was wobbly, but she managed to stand up. Webby took her hand and Lena jerked hers away. Lena had been acting odder and odder around her lately. It was like platonic touches were taboo all of a sudden.

  


“If you’re sure…?” the bookkeeper asked. She knew he wanted their business, as it would bolster his reputation. Though she wasn’t related to Scrooge directly, her grandmother’s position relative to him gave her a great deal of prestige and power. Webby had never let it go to her head, even if Louie did on occasion. It’d taken many stern talking-tos from Uncle Donald and Scrooge to get him to stop and only then, he did it in ways that he wouldn’t get caught.

  


“I’m sure,” Webby said. “Thanks.”

  


Lena handed back the glass, muttered thank you, and they continued on their way. Despite her assurances that the attack hadn’t done any permanent damage, Lena was pale and quiet as they traveled along to the sweets’ shop. As always, Webby felt compelled to fill the awkward silence.

  


“You know, the time for choosing mates is gonna be soon, after the coming of age party,” she said. “Scrooge didn’t want to throw me a party last year, but since the boys are having one this year, it made sense to group us all together.”

  


Lena choked.

  


“Lena?” Webby asked anxiously. What was wrong with her friend today? Had someone attacked her? Who had launched that magical mental attack earlier? Who could Webby beat up for her? Why was Lena so tight-lipped about it?

  


“I can’t believe you’re this oblivious,” Lena muttered.

  


“Oblivious about what?” Webby demanded.

  


Lena groaned, facepalming. Her tail swished back and forth, which Webby knew she only did when she was agitated. Was it residual pain? Damn it, Webby wished she knew more about Lena’s home life, so she could fight her demons for her and be her knight in shining armor.

  


“I’ll tell you at the ball,” Lena said and something dark passed over her face at the mention of it. Webby’s heart wrenched.

  


“You’ll be my date, right?” she asked. “We’re not officially supposed to have dates, because we’re the guests of honor and the party-throwers, but Granny won’t say anything if you don’t.”

  


Lena groaned again and color suffused her cheeks.

  


“I swear, I don’t know how you survived being this oblivious for this long,” she muttered.

  


“Oblivious about what?” she demanded, repeating herself.

  


“Never mind,” she said. “Forget I said anything. C’mon, let’s go get some sweets.”

  


Webby cocked her head curiously at her best friend. She looked aggravated, arms tucked into her body and her hands in her pockets. She stiffened as if to present a smaller target, and Webby affectionately caressed her cheek. Lena froze; while Webby didn’t know the entirety of her home life (or anything at all, really), she knew Lena was touch-starved. She hugged her with one arm while stroking her hair with the other hand.

  


“You know I love you, right?” Webby asked softly.

  


“I know,” Lena replied, but she didn’t sound happy about it. Quite the contrary. The knowledge seemed to make her best friend thoroughly miserable.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena receives a painful reminder of whose servant she is and Dewey plots to tell Webby how he feels at the gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating this yesterday. I'm going to be going back to updating once a week from now on. And right now, I'm having a conflict regarding my confidence as a writer. Doesn't help that my life is a wreck.

Pain overloaded her and Lena collapsed, seeing stars before her eyes until the whole scene went black. The last time this had happened, she’d bitten her tongue and tasted blood. Now, she curled into a ball, whimpering in pain as she endured Magica’s abuse. If she could just choke out the name, maybe Webby could enlist Scrooge into tracking down and eliminating Magica as a threat.  
  
“Magic...magic…” she pushed past her clenched lips. She couldn’t get the full name out. “My aunt Magic--”  
  
Webby collapsed beside her and cupped her cheeks in her hands. In contrast, Webby felt warm and pulsing with life. Lena was pretty sure she felt clammy and unpleasant to the touch, not that that had ever stopped Webby before. And...there was the blood filling Lena’s mouth.  
  
Magica’s cackles echoed through her mind and Lena clenched her eyes shut tighter. The pain came in waves, coursing through her and sending shocks throughout her body. She was gasping for breath; it felt like Magica was squeezing the air from her lungs, although she knew that was only in her mind.  
  
 _Stop...stop...s_ he pleaded.  
  
((Have you learned your lesson?)) Magica said coldly. ((Or do I need to punish you again?))  
  
Lena’s cheeks were wet with tears and she was ashamed. Magica had enough control over her for her not to embarrass herself in certain ways after an attack but didn’t care to stifle all the reactions. This was not the first, nor would it be the last time Webby had seen her best friend down on the cobblestones and whimpering in pain.  
  
“Lena!” Webby cried. “Lena, come back to me! Lena!”  
  
She was aware of movement around her, but she was too weak to open her eyes to investigate. Her hand sought Webby’s and she squeezed. Again Lena’s feelings were wrapped up in shame, affection for Webby, and self-loathing for what she’d inevitably have to do. Years of friendship and pining down the drain when Magica willed it. Lena hated herself with a vengeance.  
  
Blood was trickling out of her nostril; the attack had abated for now. She shuddered with the after-effects. Magica’s attacks never came and went. They were like earthquakes and always had aftershocks. Lena had curled tightly around herself as if to defend herself from invisible blows. Webby pulled her in tight against her.  
  
“Is there anything I can do?” a male voice inquired.  
  
“She’ll be okay,” Webby said, though she didn’t sound convinced that that was true. In her position, Lena wouldn’t have been either.  
  
Whether the man left or not, she didn’t know.  
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Webby pressed. “You kept saying ‘magic’; I know it was a magical attack, but it seemed like you were talking about your aunt...your aunt has magic?”  
  
 _My aunt did this to me, damn you_ , she thought, but couldn’t say. The geas prevented her from speaking it aloud.  
  
If Webby guessed it, it would enable Lena to break the geas. However, after years of these attacks, Lena had little hope that she would. It seemed Lena was fated to endure them until one of two things happened. One, she betrayed Webby and gained the precious items that Magica sought or two, Magica went overboard and “accidentally” killed her niece. Lena was betting the latter was more likely now.  
  
The man had returned and pressed a glass of water into Lena’s hand. Webby helped Lena sit up and she drank a little, swishing the water around in her mouth before spitting out an alarming amount of blood. She hadn’t bitten her tongue clean through, but it she’d come pretty close. She shuddered.  
  
“Perhaps you ought to come into my shop and rest,” the man suggested. Lena opened her eyes and waited for a second for them to focus. The shopkeeper was a portly man with light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and dirty-blonde hair. He wore a forest green tunic and black breeches, along with comfortable loafers. His expression was kind.  
  
“I’m fine,” she insisted, getting unsteadily to her feet. She swayed and clung to Webby, both because of her feebleness and because she wanted to feel her against her.  
  
She handed back the glass and, after a few more assurances, this time from Webby, they were on their way. As always after a mental attack, Lena was withdrawn and shaky. She wanted nothing more than to return to her lair and hide out, but she didn’t want to disappoint Webby. Plus, she had the sense that her time with Webby was growing short.  
  
They made their way to the sweets’ shop and Webby still held her hand. Lena wasn’t sure whether she was doing so innocently or was wholly aware of what was going on. She still hadn’t figured out whether Webby had feelings for her or whether she was oblivious to everything. The latter pained her, but not as much as the impending betrayal would.  
  
Maybe that was good in a way. If Webby didn’t have romantic feelings for Lena, then cutting ties with her after she stole the elixir and the coin shouldn’t be problematic, yes?  
  
“You know, the time for choosing mates is gonna be soon, after the coming of age party,” she said. “Scrooge didn’t want to throw me a party last year, but since the boys are having one this year, it made sense to group us all together.”  
  
Lena choked. Though it shouldn’t have, Webby’s offhand remark had alarmed her. On the surface, the comment meant very little. But the thought of someone else pairing off with Webby sent alarm bells ringing through her.  
  
Her aunt’s words floated to the surface of her thoughts.  _“But who cares? Certainly not you. You were just using her, right?”_  
  
“What’s wrong?” Webby asked, spying the look on her face and noting her reaction. “Lena?”  
  
She wanted to fling herself off the highest wall she could find.  
  
“It’s nothing,” she lied with a serene smile that hurt her face. Unfortunately for both of them, Lena was a rum liar and Webby almost never caught her at it. Then again, after being raised in the castle alone for years before Scrooge met and reconciled with his family, Webby wasn’t adept at social interactions. It made things easier when it came to manipulating her, which Magica was always eager to point out.  
  
“Really?” Webby asked. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”  
  
Lena’s tail swished back and forth, an unconscious gesture betraying her nerves.  
  
“I was going to ask if you wanted to be my date to the ball,” Webby suggested. “I mean, I’m not really supposed to have one, seeing as I’m one of the guests of honor/partially responsible for the party, but I’d really like it if you were. Plus, Granny can probably look the other way for it. She likes you, you know.”  
  
Yay. The trained assassin couldn’t sniff out Lena’s duplicity. What a happy thought.  
  
She waited for Magica to weigh in, but the sorceress seemed to be done with her for the time being. It was comforting to be alone with her thoughts, but also unnerving because she didn’t know when Magica would pop up again next. She wasn’t looking forward to it.  
  
It dawned on her that she’d been holding Webby’s hand for at least ten minutes. She yanked it away, hating the loss of warmth and the feeling that she’d been stabbed in the chest for denying herself. This was pathetic. She’d been pining for Webby for what? Six years now?  
  
“Lena?”  
  
Too much time had passed without a response.  
  
“I’ll be your date,” Lena said. Webby cocked her head curiously at her.  
  
“You don’t have to be if you don’t want to,” Webby said. She brought her hand up to caress Lena’s cheek and Lena’s knees weakened. She had a sudden urge to kiss her, right there in the middle of the street. The way the sunlight shone on Webby’s golden hair, the brightness and cheer of her and the unattainability were driving her insane.  
  
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she pressed. “I love you. I hate seeing you suffer.”  
  
“I love you too,” Lena murmured and the truth of it made her absolutely miserable.  
  
\-----  
  
“You show up here in the middle of the night and you expect me to welcome you with open arms?” Scrooge demanded. He stood in the middle of his bedroom with Goldie in the doorway. The argument might’ve been more convincing if he hadn’t been half-dressed and she in a negligee. Goldie leaned against the doorframe and smirked.  
  
“You certainly did last night,” she purred.  
  
“I…” he stopped, losing his train of thought as he remembered their tumble in his sheets. Goldie smirked. He glowered.  
  
“Scroogie, you can deny it all you want, but you and I have chemistry,” she said and sashayed her way back into the room. She let a strap slip down and reveal a little cleavage. She wasn’t playing fair.  
  
“I’m not denying that,” he retorted. “My problem is that afterward, you invariably betray me!”  
  
“I have no plans to betray you at this moment,” she informed him. She put his hands on her bare shoulders. “C’mon, Scrooge. You know you’ve missed me.”  
  
“That’s beside the point,” he snapped, though he could feel his resistance weakening. She had that effect on him. Whenever she was near, he thought with another part of his body and they both knew it. Her smile was so smug that it irritated him.  
  
“What if I promise to be good this time?” she purred.  
  
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” he demanded, stepping back to put space between them. Dressed as he was in his boxers, his interest was obvious. Her gaze swept down and back up with a predatory smile. He huffed, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
In human form, he nonetheless had grey scales along his cheeks, though he didn’t sport the tail that sometimes marked half-breeds. He had a little paunch, although he compensated for that by being rather vigorous in other activities so that even though he was immortal and nearing his hundred and fiftieth birthday, he had the stamina for a much younger man. Goldie had taken advantage of that last night.  
  
“It’d be nice, for a change,” she said. She sashayed her hips and pressed herself against him from behind.  
  
“I’d be more convinced of your good intentions if you weren’t trying to seduce me again,” he growled.  
  
“What makes you think that?” she returned. “I’m just reminding you of my assets.”  
  
“You are not playing fair,” he growled. He stepped away from her. “Now, why are you really here, Goldie?”  
  
“Oh, if you insist,” she said, pouting and stepping in front of him. “It’s only a small matter and I’ll be on my way. Unless you want me to stay?”  
  
“There’s no point in expecting you to stay,” he snapped. “You’ll just run off whenever you’ve gotten what you want.”  
  
“And what makes you think that isn’t you?” she purred.  
  
“When has it ever been me?” he countered.  
  
“Oh, don’t sound so pitiful,” she said and then grinned wickedly. “You didn’t sound like that last night.”  
  
He was doing his best to ignore his libido and folded his arms across his chest. “What do you want?”  
  
“There’s a lamp, perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s supposed to grant the user three wishes,” she said.  
  
“You know I don’t like magic,” he scoffed, but his attention was riveted to her. He watched the way her chest rose and fell and the sparkle in her eyes. Admittedly, his attention flickered further down her body more than was strictly proper. But he was in private and the boys were elsewhere.  
  
“Yet you have magic you won’t use,” she pointed out. “We all do, as dragons.”  
  
“I don’t see the point in using magic when I can earn my way through life without it,” he countered. “Magic is just a cheap short-cut to real, hard work. What makes you think I’m interested in this lamp?”  
  
“You’re paying attention to me, for one,” she said. “For another, you’ve been staring at my face for the last five minutes instead of elsewhere.”  
  
“I can’t leave Dragonburg right now,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s an important vote coming up.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Whether we should drag out Magica from hiding,” he said. “Technically, she’s the third richest dragon around here and her seat has been vacant for years. If she doesn’t appear at the next meeting, it’ll be forfeit.”  
  
“Magica,” Goldie said, contemplative, frowning. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”  
  
“Aye,” he said. “She’s been quiet for too long. That’s never a good sign.”  
  
“Didn’t you trap her in dragon form?” Goldie said and then her lips twitched. “Or so the story goes.”  
  
“I did,” he agreed. “But she’s known to hold a grudge and she’s bound to want the elixir and coin to restore her true powers and form.”  
  
“Your plan is to what? Lure her out with promises you’ll change her back, even though you have no intention of doing so?”  
  
He smirked back. “Something like that. She doesn’t have her powers, so about all she could do is spit at us.”  
  
“You sure know how to treat a lady,” she said, tossing her head. He watched her golden locks cascade down her back. Oh, to hell with it. He grabbed her and she grinned back at him. One more time couldn’t hurt. Besides, she understood the nature of their relationship. It was about give and take...and not trusting one as far as the other could throw them.  
  
\----  
  
Huey was in charge of constructing the guest list, as well as arranging the party. Of course, for a party this big, he’d required help, but the red attired boy had insisted on double-checking the party planner’s work. Dewey and Louie decided to stay out of Huey’s way. When things weren’t proceeding perfectly, the oldest triplet was tense and difficult to deal with. Louie preferred to stare at his phone and Dewey, well...he had other concerns.  
  
It would’ve been impossible to navigate a world without technology, at least for Louie. Dewey didn’t know what his younger brother would do without a phone in hand. Mark Talons had single-handedly crushed the opposition, so almost everyone had a Talons phone, except for a few people who held out or, like Uncle Scrooge, clung desperately to flip phone. (Flip phones? Was he living in the Middle Ages?)  
  
As always, Dewey paused before his mother’s portrait, hanging in the main hall. It’d been sixteen years since her plane had crashed into the rainforest and although Scrooge suspected foul play, he hadn’t been able to locate her. With Webby’s help, the triplets had managed to pinpoint her location and five years ago, they’d rescued her. She hadn’t been quite the same, though. Her spirit of adventure was gone and her mobility too. Della Dragon was an entirely different creature, quieter and less prone to gallivanting around.  
  
Some of that might’ve had to do with her being wheelchair bound. While she wouldn’t give specifics, Dewey knew she’d been injured either shortly after the plane crashed or in the aftermath. Scrooge was currently enlisting the top healers to repair the nerve damage and they seemed to be making progress, albeit agonizingly slow. Dewey wasn’t sure she’d return to normal even when she could walk again; the spirited daredevil standing in humanoid form atop a ship mast while confronting pirates felt more like a work of fiction than possibility.  
  
It didn’t take him long to find his mother. She was reading in the solarium with, to his surprise, one of Webby’s favorite tomes on her lap. When Webby wasn’t super obsessed with McDragon lure, she was reading about history and violent battles. Dewey suspected being cooped up in the palace for all those years had given her a bit of bloodlust. Not that he’d said anything to her--she still intimidated him a little, even after all these years. Webby was...intense.  
  
He loved her just the same, but he hadn’t forgotten The Day of the Only Child, where she’d attacked him, or any number of other incidents where she’d jumped the gun and arrived at the worst possible conclusion. Part of the reason he hadn’t told her how he felt about her was that he wasn’t sure how she’d take it. The other part was that he was an awkward teenager and he didn’t know how it would go down. Huey would’ve constructed a list detailing what Dewey should do and when--he wasn’t much for spontaneity--but that wasn’t Dewey’s style.  
  
Unfortunately, his style at present seemed to consist of saying and doing awkward stuff around Webby and wincing when he did something particularly stupid. What was it about girls that made boys act like idiots?  
  
His mother was intent on her book, so much so that she didn’t notice her middle son’s approach. She looked up when his shadow fell over the book and beamed at him. Even though they’d had her back for five years, that smile still made him giddy. He’d never gotten over the novelty of having their mother back. He was struck anew by her presence and he hugged her.  
  
“Hey, Dewey,” she said. “What is it?”  
  
He started and then she pretended to think, casting her gaze at the ceiling and putting her tongue to her teeth. “Oh, wait. It’s Webby, isn’t it?”  
  
He stifled a groan. “How did you know?”  
  
“One, you’re not subtle,” she said, tossing her head. Her long blonde hair swept her chair seat. “Two, you’ve been overthinking this, which isn’t like you. If you want to ask Webby to be your partner at the dance, just ask her. You’re not going to get anywhere by thinking it to death.”  
  
“I’d ask her to be my guest,” he said, stepping back, “but we’re all supposed to be hosting it. So I can’t.”  
  
“You’re afraid she’s going to ask someone else, aren’t you?” she inquired gently.  
  
“She’ll probably ask Lena,” he said. “I don’t know if they’re just friends or something else. Webby’s hard to read sometimes.”  
  
“I can talk to her,” his mother reassured him. She stroked his cowlick and he flushed, knocking her hand away so he could rearrange it to his liking.  
  
Dewey dragged a chair over to sit beside his mother. “How are the treatments going?”  
  
“Shooting pains in my legs instead of numbness, so I guess that’s progress,” Della said. “They think that in a few weeks, I might be able to walk with assistance.”  
  
“That’s great!” he exclaimed and then frowned. “Why haven’t you told the others?”  
  
“I don’t want everyone to get their hopes up,” she responded. She stroked Dewey’s cheek. “But you I can trust. We’ve always had a special bond, haven’t we? You’re like me.”  
  
Dewey grinned. He couldn’t help himself. Scrooge and Della played favorites, the latter trying to do so unobtrusively, but Dewey knew he was both his mother’s and his great-uncle’s favorite.  
  
“Do you think you’ll be able to dance at the ball?” he asked and she smiled weakly.  
  
“You have to walk before you can run,” she warned him and then hugged him again. “I feel like I’m constantly trying to make up for all those years of hugs I missed out on.”  
  
“I’m not going to say ‘no’ to a hug,” he said, hugging her back. His mind, however, drifted right back to where it’d been before. Webby.  
  
“What if she’s interested in Lena and hasn’t said anything because she’s afraid of hurting my feelings?” Dewey burst out.  
  
“I’ve known Webby for five years,” his mother said with a wry smile. “She has no filter. I don’t think that’s your problem.”  
  
“What if--” he burst out and she shook her head at him.  
  
“You’ll drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking like that.”  
  
“What would you do?” he asked.  
  
His mother frowned contemplatively. “I’d pick the perfect moment, when the mood was just right, and then I’d tell her.”  
  
“So you think I ought to tell her at the dance?”  
  
His only answer was a bright smile and he smiled back.  
  
“I’ll do that!” he vowed. “I’ll ask her to dance and then I’ll tell her. Thanks, Mom.”  
  
“I’ll be rooting for you,” she promised and beamed at him. He hugged her once more before skipping out of the room and looked for his brothers. Louie had settled in the living room and was surfing through his phone while he watched TV. Dewey cast a quick glance at the TV before shrugging and looking for Huey. He was closer to Huey anyway.  
  
He found Huey in his bedroom--the three used to share a bedroom, but as they grew older, they’d decided to change the rooming arrangement. They were now in three separate bedrooms, but they were next door to each other and had adjoining doors.  
  
Huey was frowning at a list and shaking his head as he wrote and then crossed out things. Dewey considered interrupting him, but his brother had been in an increasing foul mood as the ball came closer. If things weren’t perfect, his brother would wig out. Dewey had seen it before. He and Louie were like polar opposites on that.  
  
Scrooge was probably in his dungeon with his hoard and Mrs. Beakley--well, he wasn’t going to seek her out. All that was left was to wait for Webby to return, with or without Lena. The problem of Lena gnawed at him again. He didn’t know how Webby felt about her and it was grating.  
  
He knew Lena probably had feelings for Webby. It was obvious when she looked at Webby when she thought no one was looking. Webby hadn’t noticed yet or, if she had, she was keeping quiet about it. As his mother had said, the latter was unlikely. Webby hadn’t noticed Dewey’s crush on her either.  
  
Or falling in love with her. He’d been in love with her for years now. The thought that Lena could take her away hurt, even if he knew Webby was entitled to a choice. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could leave his impression on her and she’d pick him.  
  
There was a chance she’d pick both of them, which would be weird. But Webby was unpredictable like that. No, he’d prefer it one way or another, not the middle of the road option. She had to choose.  
  
And he’d ensure she made the right choice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magica gets revenge of a sort against Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted early--I decided against posting on Saturday because that's when season 2 airs. I wanted to wake up to reviews tomorrow, so I'm posting this during The Daily Show today.
> 
> Life has been kinda insane. Just in general.

Magica thought she’d been perfectly understanding and patient, given the circumstances. She’d allowed this farce of a friendship to go on for too long and Lena had assumed she could continue to get away with her precious “feelings” for Webby. Magica wasn’t an idiot. She knew Lena had a crush on Webby if she wasn’t outright in love with her. And it was annoying, too, because she considered the pink one a nuisance at best. She was all light and kind and compassionate. It sickened Magica. Yet Lena ate that shit up.

  
She could sense the lure of Scrooge’s first treasure and the elixir like a clarion call. It rang through her senses, preventing her from thinking about anything else, even her troublesome niece. Gritting her teeth, she swished her tail back and forth in the cave. Obviously, Scrooge was laying a trap for her. However, she knew Scrooge well enough to know he wouldn’t want to lose face. She might not have her magic, but she could still bring the heat, proverbially speaking.

  
Poe looked at her strangely; he must’ve been sensing the magic too, though nowhere near as strongly. While he had magic, as all dragons did, his was weak in comparison. Of course, Scrooge had magic too and he could wield it well if he cared to. She scoffed. What she could’ve used was a Scrooge turned to the dark side. It wouldn’t have been too hard, considering how greedy he was.

  
And argh, every time she ignored the call, it grew louder. Damn it, she hadn’t planned on confronting him so soon. But…

  
Kicking with her hind legs, she pushed herself out of the cave, roared, and flew off toward Dragonburg. The closer she got, the more irresistible the call became. It sang through her blood and hummed through her bones. She had to be careful to avoid the TV towers and cell phone towers that were rampant throughout Dragonburg--they might’ve been dragons, but that was no excuse to live in the Middle Ages. They were as technologically literate as any society could hope to be, including their neighbors in other countries.

  
It was just bothersome when those damned buildings were in her way. Growling, she navigated around them. It’d been a long time since she’d been in Dragonburg, fifteen years to be exact, and she didn’t remember the city being so irksome. Then again, she’d been on foot then and not forced to travel as a dragon. They stayed in dragon form when they left the city, but otherwise, once within, they reverted to humanoid form. A strange species had once built this place and then died out, leaving the dragons to inherit it. Rather than rebuild or create a new city, they’d moved in.

  
Magica was sure it was all very convenient for them, though it wasn’t for her right now. She wanted to throttle the idiot who decided this was a good layout.

  
She’d thought she wouldn’t return here until Lena...damn it. She couldn’t think of what she’d wanted to do before her triumphant return.  
She landed in the fields surrounding McDragon Manor. This close to the precious objects, her nerves were on fire and she reared back, preparing to storm the manor. That proved problematic because no sooner had she landed than she found herself encumbered by a force field.

  
“You have got to be joking,” she said.

  
“I knew you’d come if I baited the trap just right,” Scrooge said and Magica inhaled deeply to set him on fire. All that came out was a puff of smoke. Her hatred for him knew no bounds.

  
He held up the nugget she wanted and then the elixir in his other hand. Magica snarled, thrashing against her restraints. Lena had never gotten this close. Lena...Magica roared in outrage, stomping the earth flat and throwing Scrooge a poisonous look. She could kill him. She could if she could get through the forcefield.

  
“Now, the committee has some questions for you,” he said.

  
Magica bit off a curse and told Scrooge to go screw himself. This close to the vaunted objects, it was acutely painful. She wondered vaguely if this was what Lena endured when she tormented her.

  
“Give it to me,” she hissed. “Give it to me now, Scroogie.”

  
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Questions first and then we’ll consider...but I’m thinking ‘no’. At least, ‘no’ for getting your full powers back.”

  
Even if she didn’t get it now, she could force Lena to steal the objects in question during the masquerade ball. Yes, that would work. Oh, it was so hard to think with this nail being driven into her head. She continued to thrash and snarl; it felt like her head being split apart. What the hell had Scrooge done to those objects?

  
“I’ll kill you!” she threatened. “I’ll tear off your head and leave it around for your precious brats to find!”

  
“See, it’s talk like that that makes me not want to free you,” he said.

  
“You cheated!” she howled, indignant. “You lured me here under false pretenses.”

  
“Of course he did,” said another familiar voice and Magica turned her head. Mrs. Beakley, in dragon form, approached the force field. Magica’s outrage grew by leaps and bounds. Not only was Beakley in dragon form, but she could also choose to inhabit it. Magica had no choice. She wanted to kill Scrooge, of course, but she’d take Beakley down next if she could.

  
“Why else would he want you here?” Beakley continued.

  
Magica flung herself against the magical barrier and rebounded, skidding backward and digging up the loamy earth.

  
“Right, I should go fetch the committee,” Scrooge said. “I didn’t expect it to work this well.”

  
He walked away, leaving her with Beakley, who was pacing around her. Magica could sense the barrier’s edges but couldn’t penetrate them. In Beakley, she saw Webbigail, which incensed her further. Lena’s affection for that infernal girl was going to be their downfall. She needed a way to gain better control over Lena. Or else discard her like the puppet she was.

  
“It’s a shame I’m in my dragon form,” Beakley informed her. She was a hulking monstrosity of a dragon, agate scales shining in the sun and her eyes currently draconic yellow. There was coiled strength in that long, bulky body. She was easily the height of the manor and perhaps half again as wide in dragon form. Beakley could probably grab her by the throat and shake her like a dog would a rat and break its neck.

  
“It’s a shame you didn’t bring Webbigail with you,” Magica countered. “But, no, I suppose you want to protect her from everything, including me.”

  
Beakley halted, sniffing. Warning smoke flew from her nostrils. Her long grey mane swept from side to side. Ah, she’d hit a nerve.

  
“You have nothing to do with my granddaughter and I intend to keep it that way,” Beakley sniffed again. “Your foul, odious dark magic shall never touch our walls.”

  
Magica laughed. She couldn’t help herself. How foolish Beakley and Scrooge were, to think their fortress impregnable. How arrogant. Everything could be breached, given enough time and patience. It was one of the rare instances where she was almost proud of Lena.  
However, since Magica gave herself credit for what Lena had accomplished, Magica was proud of herself for getting that far.

  
“I don’t know why Scrooge permitted you to keep that form,” Beakley continued. “If it were me, I’d have stuck you in a form with far less mobility and power. Of course, he trapped you in dragon form by accident. I would change you into benign...maybe a duck.”

  
Scrooge returned with Flintheart Glomgold and Mark Talons. Magica sneered at Talons. He was a young upstart who thought he was so much better than everyone because he designed cell phones. She’d seen Lena typing away on her phone, presumably texting Webby.  
Oh...to get her talons on Webby just once…

  
“Ha, look whose fortunes have fallen even further,” Glomgold crooned.

  
“And...I’m officially the third richest dragon in Dragonburg,” Talons announced, staring at his phone and poking at the screen. “Looks like you’re the fourth. Oh well. You snooze, you lose.”

  
“Gentlemen,” Scrooge reprimanded. He eyed Magica. “As the fourth richest dragon in Dragonburg, or, should I say, in exile from Dragonburg, you are no longer needed on the committee. Looks like I brought you out here for nothing.”

  
He tucked the nugget and elixir away. On the one hand, the burning magic stopped and she could breathe. On the other, a vein throbbed in her forehead. She flung herself at the barrier again and Talons frowned. He was a slim humanoid with grey and brown hair, despite only being thirty or so. He wore grey too, so drab, and was too fixated on his phone to acknowledge Scrooge’s comment. He had, however, noticed her attempts to escape.

  
“Shouldn’t you do something about that?” Talons asked in idle curiosity as if Magica were an exhibit he wasn’t particularly interested in.

  
“You’re not getting out of there that easily,” Scrooge said. “It’s the best magical protection Beakley can provide.”

  
Magica paused. Throwing herself against the barrier and snarling was accomplishing nothing. Perhaps it was time to change tactics, find something that worked better.

  
“You sure you don’t want a girl on the committee to round things out?” Magica commented. “I dare say I might bring a breath of life to these assorted windbags. Present company included.”

  
“I think we’ll manage just fine without you,” Scrooge said. “Beakley, take down the barrier--once we’re all clear. Let her go on her way.”

Magica grinned. She could think clearly and if Beakley lowered the defenses now, she might have a chance…

  
Beakley scowled. Or, rather, she would’ve, if her draconic features currently allowed for humanoid facial expressions. She didn’t look happy with Scrooge’s command. The two other magnates walked away, but Scrooge lingered. And that was all the opportunity Magica needed. She waited impatiently for Beakley to lower her guard.

  
It seemed, however, that Scrooge was determined to keep an eye on her. This was...unfortunate.

  
She changed her mind. The elixir and the nugget, while important, were no longer her concern. Lena could fetch those later. As soon as the barrier lowered, once Scrooge was out of sight distance, Magica surged toward the manor and Webby.

  
She managed a short jump before Beakley slammed her into the ground.

  
“Mr. McDragon has made it very clear you are not welcome here,” Beakley growled, her teeth at the other female’s throat.

  
The other woman outweighed her, had more muscles than her, and had more magic to bear. Magica was outgunned. She whirled around, straining to get her teeth around Beakley’s throat. Beakley hadn’t bitten down, which was her mistake. However, she also was ducking her head and keeping her long neck out of Magica’s reach.

  
“Oh, has he?” Magica said conversationally. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  
“I know who you’re after,” Beakley snarled. “And you’re not going to get there.”

  
“Not while--” Magica squirmed--”you are making this--” she lashed out and finally, finally, hooked her fangs onto Beakley’s throat--”difficult.”

  
She bit down hard, knowing she wouldn’t get a second chance, and Beakley kicked her hard in the stomach, causing a bit of flesh to fly off as Magica crashed away from her. Beakley’s throat was bleeding profusely and Magica knew she’d seen the alarm in her eyes. She was stuck on her back, however, which would make it difficult to flip herself over. A dragon of her girth on its back was as helpless as a turtle. She’d eventually be able to roll herself up, but it’d take a while.

  
And Beakley wasn’t going to grant her that time.

  
Beakley darted toward the manor and shifted as she did, conjuring up her normal attire before disappearing within. Despite the situation, Magica grinned. She’d injured her enemy. That was worth its weight in gold...almost.

\----

Webby and Lena arrived home to discover the manor in an uproar. The two pushed their way through the servants and found the boys sitting outside her grandmother’s room. Perplexed, Webby glanced at the closed door. That was peculiar. Her grandmother almost never shut her door, not during the day.

  
“What’s going on?” Webby asked, her heart hammering. She’d already gotten the gist from the servants’ gossip that something bad had happened. “Where’s Granny?”

  
“Scrooge brought Magica here,” Dewey said. “The committee needed to talk to her and she got into a fight with Mrs. Beakley. We don’t know much more than that, but Mrs. Beakley’s been in there with a whole bunch of doctors ever since.”

  
“Granny!” Webby gasped, horrified, and rushed to the door.

  
Lena, however, seemed to be preoccupied with another matter. “Magica was here?”

  
“How do you know who Magica is?” Huey asked, suspicious.

  
Lena gritted her teeth and managed to spit out one word. “Aunt.”

  
“She’s your aunt?!” the boys and Webby exclaimed.

  
Lena sagged, all the strength running out of her. She collapsed against Webby. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for four years. Magica put a geas on me so I couldn’t.”

  
“Wait…” Webby said, thinking over all the manner of strange discussions and moments she’d had with Lena over the years. They were starting to make an odd sort of sense.

  
“Then how do we know you’re not evil?” Louie asked, looking up from his phone. “And using us as puppets to get what Magica wants?”

“I’m not,” Lena protested. Webby had to support her before she sagged onto the floor. She could feel her best friend’s heart racing through her wrist.

  
“Sounds like something an evil person might say in their defense,” Louie said.

  
“She’s not evil,” Webby said. “I’m a good judge of character.”

  
The boys exchanged glances.

  
“No offense, Webby, but you’re really not,” Huey said. “You’ve been cooped up in this manor for so long that when we first met you, you thought we were trying to kill you.”

  
Lena snorted weakly. “I’d love to have seen that.”

  
“You tied us up and questioned us for ten minutes before you let us go,” Dewey added.

  
“You’d never hurt me, right, Lena?” Webby said, turning to her. “You love me. You said so.”

  
Lena hugged her; her tail was lashing back and forth in agitation again. What was going on with her? First the collapsing and now this? Wait...the collapsing…

  
“You said Magica has a geas on you,” Webby said. “That’s a magical compulsion. Are there any other ways Magica has power over you?”

  
Lena wouldn’t meet her gaze this time. “Yes.”

  
“Told you!” Louie said. “I can always tell a grifter.”

  
“She’s telling me the truth,” Webby protested. “Those attacks...you said they were magical. Or did you mean Magica?”

  
Lena collapsed, all the strength seeming to flow out of her. She crashed to the floor and hugged her knees. Her gaze slid over the group of them, to the exit behind them, and then back to Webby. An air of profound sadness and regret hung over her, which Webby couldn’t fathom. What would Lena have cause to regret? She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  
“I meant the latter,” Lena said and clenched a fist against her thigh.

  
“Magica’s been hurting you for years?” Dewey asked, seeming to side with Lena and Webby. Webby smiled at him.

  
Lena nodded again, looking thoroughly dejected. Webby sat beside her on the floor.

  
“I’m telling you, Webby…” Louie began and Webby shot him a dirty look.

  
“You can trust her,” Webby said. “I swear it on my life.”

  
“Webby…” Louie warned.

  
“I know Lena,” Webby said. “And I know I can trust her. That means you can too.”

  
Lena didn’t respond. She pressed her forehead against her knees and hugged her legs harder.

  
“The fact that she’s not defending herself is making me kinda wary,” Huey said.

  
“Well…” Lena murmured.

  
Just then, the door opened, preventing any further extrapolation. A man wearing white robes with brown hair and a few brown scales on his cheeks left, closing his magical satchel as he went. He frowned at the group assembled outside.

  
“Is Granny okay?” Webby burst out, forgetting about Lena for the time being. She jumped to her feet. “What happened?”

  
“Magica went for her throat,” Cal said, frowning. “We’re not sure how extensive the damage will be...but...we gave her a sedative for the time being.”

  
“Her throat?” Webby repeated, feeling ill. “Can I see her?”

  
“She’s sleeping,” Cal said. Scrooge had been using him for years now--he was discreet and he was usually available at a moment’s notice. He was slim and gave the impression of wings, even in humanoid form. Unlike Lena and a few others Webby knew, he did not possess a tail. She’d never seen him in dragon form, so she wasn’t sure if he didn’t have one or he did.

  
They filed into the room to spy her grandmother with heavy bandages around her neck. She was pale and her chest rose and fell slowly, not the easy regular rhythm of uninhibited breathing.

  
“I’m so sorry, Webby,” Lena said.

  
“Why? You didn’t do this,” Webby replied, grateful her friend had managed to rise up and join them. It must’ve been the lighting because Lena looked sick to her stomach too. The boys stared at Mrs. Beakley and then at the floor.

  
Webby was well familiar with her grandmother’s room. It had a large four poster bed, a locked chest at the base of it, a dresser opposite it, a bookcase full of books, and a desk with chair for any professional matters.

  
“She’ll be okay, lass,” said a voice from behind them and Scrooge walked into the room. Behind him was Goldie, whom Webby ignored for the time being. She had mixed feelings about the blonde woman, owing to the fact that their first meeting had ended with Webby and her grandmother being stuffed in an armoire.

  
“How can you tell for sure?” Huey argued. “We don’t know how bad her injuries are.”

  
“I’m trying to comfort her,” Scrooge snapped at him.

  
“Sorry…” Huey said. He reached for Webby’s hand, as did Dewey, and they both squeezed.

  
“Lena said her aunt is Magica,” Louie said, apparently still hung-up on what had happened earlier. It had slipped Webby’s mind.

  
“Then I suppose she’d be wanting this,” Scrooge said, reaching into his pocket to pull out the little vial with black liquid sloshing around. Lena’s breath caught.

  
“Come with me, lass,” he said, gesturing to Lena. “We have a few things to discuss.”

  
Lena, staring around her with wide eyes, leaned forward and pecked Webby on the cheek before following Scrooge down the hall. Webby flushed, holding her cheek as the two disappeared. She couldn’t believe Lena had kissed her.

  
“She looked like she was going to her execution,” Dewey said quietly.

  
Louie looked uneasy. Though he’d been the one to say they shouldn’t trust Lena, he didn’t seem happy about the way things had turned out.

  
“We can trust Lena,” Webby said and wasn’t sure she was trying to convince them or herself. “I trust her.”

  
She stared at her grandmother’s prone form. Her stomach roiled and she swallowed back the bile that burned her throat. She didn’t like doubting Lena. It threatened her world as she knew it.

  
“Oh, Webby,” Dewey said and she glanced at him. “Mom wanted to talk to you about the ball. But it can wait.”

  
Webby nodded mechanically. Yes, it could wait. She stepped forward, mentally running her hands over her grandmother’s neck. In dragon form, the neck was the only vulnerable part of the body. The only way to make a killing strike.

  
Magica. Aunt Magica, Lena had said. Webby clenched her eyes shut and felt Louie’s hand on her back.

  
“Maybe you’re right,” Louie offered. “It’d be nice if I was wrong, wouldn’t it?”

  
He said this in a tone that indicated he doubted he was. She doubted it too and her heart felt heavy, unbearably heavy.

\----

She could still taste the foul woman’s blood in her mouth and she spat it out. She’d come no closer to obtaining her treasures and she might have sabotaged Lena in the process. For someone who normally thought things through, this had gone terribly. Scrooge would be on guard, which would mean that the masquerade ball would have much more security, including around his dungeons. Lena’s best chance to snoop would’ve been that...Magica cursed.

  
She’d let her bloodlust get the best of her. It’d just been so long since she’d been able to do something that she’d not thought about it first. That didn’t eradicate the desire to thrash Webby to one inch of her life, though it was now compounded with a desire to do the same to Lena.

  
She reached for Lena so she could inflict more pain and found herself mentally grasping at thin air. Someone had a magical shield about her. Magica snarled.

  
Why the hell was she running and hiding, anyway? Even if she couldn’t get into the manor, perhaps she could convince someone else to help her. Obviously, Lena was out, at least for the time being. She just needed to find the right susceptible and possibly suicidal soul…


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge makes a deal with Lena, Magica is incensed, and Mrs. Beakley briefly resurfaces to check on Webby. 
> 
> Oh, and, you know, no big deal...
> 
> Dewey and Webby kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially Dewebby. (With some hints of Weblena being a thing too). I have OT3s, so polyamory might come into play here. Might not.

Lena flinched when she sat down, anticipating pain that never arrived. She could feel Magica’s mental claws reaching for her but there was a barrier between them. For the first time in her life, Magica wanted to hurt her and couldn’t. Wide-eyed, still feeling like she was headed for the gallows, she stared at Scrooge McDragon. The elderly dragon sat on his cushioned red chair and stared at her over his desk.  
  
“She can’t reach inside of here,” he said. “The magical protections are too strong.”  
  
He was holding the elixir, what Magica had obsessed over for so many years. It was within her grasp and she could practically hear Magica exhorting her to take it. Her stomach tied itself in knots. If she attempted to steal it, she’d lose Webby forever. If she didn’t, Magica might kill her. She swallowed back the bile that burned her throat.  
  
“I imagine she’s been looking for this for a very long time,” he said. “Fifteen years, to be exact.”  
  
“And you’re just going to give it to me?” Lena burst out and Scrooge shook his head.  
  
“No, lass, I’m not,” he said. “I wanted to ask you a few questions.”  
  
He put the elixir on the table between them and Lena thought this was profoundly unfair. Even without Magica whispering in her head, after years of hearing her command her and with the elixir within reach, Lena was tempted. She was tempted and yet she was sick with the knowledge of the consequences. By enabling Magica, she’d lose her freedom and herself. She wasn’t naive enough, not anymore, to think Magica would grant her complete freedom. This was the limit, this was as far as she’d get; Magica’s mortal enemy’s office.  
  
“Then, why is it out?” Lena said.  
  
“To test your mettle,” he said and he scrutinized her. “And determine which you value more--Webbigail or your aunt.”  
  
“That’s not fair,” she burst out. “Magica will totally kill me if I come back without it. I mean, Webby is one thing, but Webby wouldn’t tear me to pieces over not helping her.”  
  
“I can protect you from Magica,” he said.  
  
“Yeah, for now, but as soon as I leave, she’ll know,” Lena protested. As soon as she left, Magica would know and swoop down on her like a bird of prey for an easy kill. Lena pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. Her nerves were at an all-time high. She badly wanted to grab the elixir off the desk and run out.  
  
She knew she wouldn’t get away with it. Even with Mrs. Beakley out of commission, Webby could be formidable in her own right. And assuming she escaped the manor, that was it for her. Lena would never be happy again.  
  
So maybe the elixir wasn’t all that tempting.  
  
“I can protect you,” he repeated. Lena stared at the table and felt tears sting her eyes.  
  
“Why would you help me?” she asked. “I befriended Webby just to get close to you. I’m Magica’s niece. And you’re a lot less naive than Webby.”  
  
“How long have you been doing Magica’s bidding?” Scrooge asked and Lena kept staring at the wooden desk.  
  
“Since I was old enough to walk, talk, speak, and steal,” Lena murmured. “About five.”  
  
“You’ve been in thrall to her for over ten years?” he asked and she nodded.  
  
“I couldn’t tell anyone until you found out about Magica.”  
  
Scrooge frowned and then slammed his fist on the table, which prompted Lena to look up. She shuddered, anticipating violence, and tried to make herself smaller. It had worked when she was a child, in that she could sometimes avoid Magica’s blows by rolling away or not being where the older dragon had anticipated her. However, as she grew older, it became less and less effective.  
  
“Lena de Spell, look at me,” he instructed and she did, albeit reluctantly.  
  
“I’ll ask you again. Who do you value more--Magica or Webby?”  
  
“You try being someone’s puppet for your entire life!” Lena snapped back. “Webby’s the first good thing that’s happened to me and you want to take her away.”  
  
“No,” he corrected. “This isn’t my decision. It’s yours.”  
  
Lena glowered at him. There was still the gala if it came to that. She could always steal the elixir and the treasure during the gala. She couldn’t have both Magica and Webby, not anymore, not now that her secret was out. It wasn’t much of a choice--a life of drudgery and servitude versus a possible chance for happiness.  
  
“You’ve known Webbigail for four years now,” Scrooge remarked. “She’s the first good thing you’ve had?”  
  
“My life sucks, all right?” Lena said, getting testy. “And Aunt Magica’s getting impatient and chomping at the bit. Plus, if Poe doesn’t get that elixir, he’ll die soon. He can’t change back into a dragon and he’s lived longer than a raven normally does.”  
  
“Hmm…” he said, weighing this. Her fight or flight impulse had kicked in and adrenaline coursed through her veins. She wanted to bolt and it was difficult to suppress the urge. If she fled, she’d be seen as guilty.  
  
“If Poe receives the elixir, there’s no guarantee Magica won’t too,” he mused. “Especially considering how scared you are of her.”  
  
“She’s been torturing me my entire life,” Lena said flatly. “She’s a cruel, vindictive, abusive bitch. You’re an adult. You don’t understand.”  
  
“I do understand,” he said gently. “Where do you stay when you’re not here?”  
  
“What does it matter to you?” she asked, not looking at him again. Technically, she squatted in an apartment and she didn’t want him to find out and get the local constabulary involved. The cops would shove her out and probably put her in juvie or something worse.  
  
“You’re not living with her, are you?” he asked severely.  
  
“I might as well be,” she said. “This is the first time that I can remember that she hasn’t been hovering over my shoulder or reading my thoughts or stalking me magically.”  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t see how any of that matters to you.”  
  
“You’re Webbigail’s best friend,” he said quietly. “You’ve been coming around here for years. You didn’t think I would start to care about you?”  
  
Honestly, no. The thought had never occurred to her. Lena shifted, uncomfortable. It was probably a side effect of the depression, the thought that she had no staying power in anyone’s lives. With Webby, she wasn’t quite sure where she stood, but with other people, she doubted they’d notice. Maybe Dewey would? He’d defended her earlier, which she’d appreciated.  
  
“Webby’s not related to you,” she argued.  
  
“I’ve seen her grow up,” he replied. “I’ve seen her get closer to the boys, too. And if they consider her family, then so do I.”  
  
Lena stared at the table again. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Scrooge’s gaze. Her tail lashed in her chair, her only visible sign of agitation.  
  
“We can protect you if that’s what you want,” he said. “If you take that elixir, I won’t stop you. Just know that you’d never be welcome anywhere near Webbigail or the others, or McDuck Manor, again.”  
  
Lena flicked a glance up at Scrooge and then back down at the table. Suddenly, the choices she’d thought she had vanished. She stared at the vial and then nudged it back toward him. The urge to seize it was strong, but the thought of losing Webby was worse by far. A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks.  
  
“You’ve made your choice, then?” he asked and she nodded.  
  
“All right,” he said. “Let’s see what we can do about keeping you safe.”  
  
He grabbed the vial and tucked it into his pocket. Although Lena eyed it, she made no move to grab it. She was miserable with the thought of Magica’s retribution, but...she had the tiniest amount of hope that things might improve. It was more than she’d had earlier today and she cherished it.  
  
Still, as they moved back toward Mrs. Beakley’s room, Lena felt the elixir in Scrooge’s pocket like a weight around her neck. It was the yoke that tied her to Magica and Poe and she was letting it slip away. What was wrong with her? Could Scrooge really grant her freedom? Webby trusted him, but then again, Webby trusted everyone. As much as she adored the girl...Webby was too naive for her own good sometimes.  
  
“Lena?” Webby asked.  
  
“She’s staying here, with us, lass,” Scrooge said and squeezed Lena’s shoulder. Lena had grown accustomed to physical affection from Webby, but other people were another matter. She startled, expecting him to hit her. When that didn’t happen, she forced herself to relax. Scrooge hadn’t noticed her flinching, either.  
  
“You trust her?” Louie asked.  
  
“She chose Webbigail over the elixir,” Scrooge said. “Aye, I trust her.”  
  
Louie frowned, studying her, and then shrugged. “I mean, I guess if she took four years and decided she wasn’t going to betray Webby, she won’t. Unless this is still a con.”  
  
“It’s not a con,” Scrooge and Lena said in unison, the former exasperated and the latter anxious.  
  
“We’ll find someone to pick up your belongings,” Scrooge said. Lena’s attention was diverted from the older dragon by a flurry of movement in Mrs. Beakley’s room. The doctor had vanished back inside and now was coming out, beckoning toward Webby. When the boys made to enter with her, he jerked his head. Lena’s stomach plummeted. This couldn’t be good news.  
  
She felt ill. If Magica had really hurt Mrs. Beakley, then it would be her fault because she’d brought her to Magica’s attention. Because of Mrs. Beakley’s ties to Webby, Magica must’ve seen a weakness and attacked it. Lena wanted to run and hide, but she offered the boys a weak smile instead.  
  
“We could show you around,” Huey offered. Lena shook her head.  
  
“I’m fine. We can chill over here,” she said, straining to see what was going on. The doctor closed the door and the boys exchanged worried glances.  
  
“You don’t think she’s dying, do you?” Dewey asked quietly. “Why would he shut us out like that?”  
  
“She can’t be dying,” Louie said, but he had nothing to support that. “I mean...she can’t die. Not like that. Not after a sneak attack that Magica must’ve done.”  
  
The guilt swamped her. She was responsible for this. Scrooge was still standing nearby, conversing with the nurse. She could steal the vial and flee; that couldn’t possibly be worse than facing Mrs. Beakley’s death from Magica’s hands. And then Webby...Webby would be heartbroken. Of course, if her grandmother died, she’d be devastated anyway. But to lose her best friend and her grandmother in one fell swoop would be far worse.  
  
“Are you okay?” Huey asked. “You’re really pale.”  
  
“I’m fine,” she lied and he scowled.  
  
“You’re not fine,” he countered. She forced herself not to glance at Scrooge’s right front pocket where the vial was. Would Webby want anything to do with her if her grandmother died? Or would she place the blame rightfully on Lena?  
  
“Do you really care or are you just asking to be polite?” she asked.  
  
“Of course I care,” he retorted. “You’ve been around here enough--we’re all used to you--I thought we were all kind of friends now.”  
  
Lena just shook her head. She didn’t know how to answer that. Her heart was in her throat and she wished she could barge into Mrs. Beakley’s room and find out what was going on. Not knowing was torture. She glanced around and her gaze settled on Scrooge.  
  
“Calente is one of the best healers in America,” Scrooge told them. “He’ll do whatever is necessary to help.”  
  
Somehow, Lena didn’t find that as reassuring as she could have.  
  
\----  
  
Enraged, Magica thrashed about in the woods outside of Dragonburg. She had no intention of slinking back to her cave. She wished she’d ripped out Beakley’s throat entirely, but she hadn’t had the chance. Beakley hadn’t let her. What was worse, however, was that she could no longer feel Lena or have a presence in her mind. It was like that black tether connecting her to her niece had been severed and she had a block rather than a link. It was maddening. It was infuriating. It smacked of Scrooge McDragon.  
  
Lena belonged to _her_. She had laid claim to her when she was a toddler and as loathsome as she found her connection to her niece, she had used it to her advantage. To be denied it felt like she’d lost her favorite tool. And make no mistake--Lena was a tool at best.  
  
How dare Scrooge interfere in her plans for Lena. How had he known, anyway? The geas should’ve prevented Lena from uttering Magica’s name. It didn’t, however, prevent others from saying it around her. And if Lena had managed to push through that loophole…  
  
Magica snarled, rampaging through the forest. She wanted to kill someone. First her rejection from Dragonburg, then Beakley fleeing, and now Lena cut off from her. She would have what belonged to her and she would have it now. In her current form, she couldn’t create a potion--she was too large and the materials required small hands, not dragon claws. And Poe couldn’t help; he was succumbing to the bird within and diminishing more and more every day.  
  
She needed Lena. It vexed her to admit it, but the teenager was vital to her plans. And she did not belong to Scrooge. Magica’s lips peeled back in a snarl. Once she got what she wanted, she would kill Lena. It was clear that the girl could not be trusted with the smallest of tasks. If Poe objected, well, he might not have enough left in him to recognize his daughter anyway.  
  
Traitor. Her niece was a traitor. She tossed her head and glanced in the direction of McDragon Manor. She lacked the mental connection with anyone but Lena. However, Lena had to leave the manor sometime. And when she did, Magica would spring on her and punish her to within an inch of her life. She would leave the girl begging for mercy and then use her to steal the elixir and the treasure. Then she would kill her. Lena had outlived her usefulness.  
  
And if this was a bit cruel, then, well, what could she say? She was tired of waiting.  
  
\----  
  
When Webby was finished with her grandmother, she said nothing to any of them but instead fled for her room. Dewey followed; his mother had said to wait for the perfect moment, but he didn’t see why this couldn’t be it. He could comfort her and, in the process, tell her how he felt about her. Maybe there’d be a moment of mutual understanding and they could move from there. Maybe he was being hopelessly naive. He didn’t know.  
  
He caught the door before she closed it. In all the time he’d known her, she’d seldom cried and he could sense she was stifling sobs right now.  
  
“Webby?” he said softly and thrust his foot in the doorway to prevent her from closing the door on him. Webby sniffled, staring at him with her eyes full of tears. His heart ached seeing her so miserable.  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
“You kinda already have,” she pointed out. She opened the door further, however, and stepped back. She swiped at her eyes and Dewey leaned forward to thumb away the errant tears that had fallen. Webby was shaking with suppressed sobs and he hugged her, letting her rest her head on his chest. In the meanwhile, he stroked her hair and it dawned on him all over again that this was the girl he was in love with. This was the girl he’d imagined spending his entire life with. She was here, in his arms. True, she was crying, but they were here, together, and everything felt possible.  
  
“Sssh…” he said. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”  
  
“Cal says that she might never speak again,” she said softly. “He was amazed that she was able to shift right after the attack and he said that might have cost her more energy that she needed to heal. He put her in a magical coma so she can heal.”  
  
She sniffled and hugged him back. He guided her toward her bed and pulled her onto his lap. He was whispering soothing nothings to her in the hopes that it’d help, that something would penetrate.  
  
They sat there for a few minutes in silence. He didn’t know what else to say to her and she seemed unwilling to speak. He had a half-formed notion that he might lean in to kiss her and she’d lean in too...but he pushed that aside as highly irrelevant for the time being and also distracting.  
  
“I can’t believe Lena’s Magica’s niece…” Webby said at last. “All those years and she couldn’t tell us...and then suffering…”  
  
Dewey stroked her hair. “I know.”  
  
“She’s really my friend, though,” she said and for the first time, a hint of doubt crept into her voice. “I know she is. Even if it started out as a ruse, she grew to care about me. She told me she loved me. That wasn’t a lie...was it?”  
  
“I don’t know…” he said, feeling wrong-footed and not sure what to say to her.  
  
He wanted to kiss her, he did, but would the timing be all wrong for that? Or should he say to hell with it and take the chance?  
  
“Uncle Scrooge wouldn’t have let her stay here if she wasn’t trustworthy,” she said. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.  
  
“You can talk to her later,” Dewey reasoned. “She’ll still be here.”  
  
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, even while aware that this might not be the perfect moment, he leaned in and kissed her. He knew he probably should’ve waited, but he couldn’t hold it back any longer. She had to know how he felt.  
  
His body lit up with electricity and warmth rushed through him. It wasn’t fireworks, but it was pretty close. Her lips were soft and when he swiped his tongue along them, they were sweet too, a little like juice. He could feel her breath on his cheek. Webs...  
  
Webby gasped; he’d clearly caught her off guard. She didn’t kiss him back, but he hadn’t expected it. Of course, he’d always hoped she would, but he could accept that she might be taken aback. He pulled away when she continued to gape at him.  
  
“Webs?” he asked.  
  
“...you kissed me…” she said faintly. She put a hand to her lips and gaped at him. His heart pounded between his ribs. He wanted to build a family with her. He wanted to fly the skies with her and never lose sight of her, only chase her through the world on a Bonding flight and discover something new, not to mention adventuring with her. She had his whole heart. Didn’t she know that? He should tell her.  
  
“I can’t hold this in any longer,” he said. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I mean, if you don’t feel the same way, you might grow to. Or not. Argh, this sounded so much better in my head.”  
  
She sat still, so still that he wasn’t sure whether he’d done the right thing. Should he have waited? After all, she was worried about her grandmother and her best friend. Maybe this hadn’t been the best timing. And she was staring at him with wide eyes. He cursed himself inwardly.  
  
“I…” She glanced around, as if hoping something or someone might come along and interrupt this awkward moment. Blood rushed to Dewey’s cheeks. He shouldn’t have pushed the issue.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have--I’m sorry. I should just go now. Yeah. I’m gonna go.”  
  
Webby reached out for him and kept him from jumping to his feet, despite his yearning to do so. Her hand was warm on his and he felt the sparks between them. For the first time, he wondered whether he was the only one who did. Could this all be in his head?  
  
“I don’t know how I feel about you,” she answered. “Or Lena.”  
  
“Lena?” he exclaimed. “What does she have to do with this?”  
  
“I have feelings for both of you and I can’t sort out what’s what!” she said, exasperated, perhaps with herself. “I love being around both of you and I don’t want either of you to leave me. I don’t want to have to choose.”  
  
“If you did choose, who would you pick?” he asked and then cursed again mentally. Why was he putting her in this untenable position? Did he really think she was going to pick him?  
  
  
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “Why do I have to choose? Why can’t I have both of you?”  
  
Dewey knew he ought to back off. He was stressing her out further and he wasn’t going to get the response he wanted. Swallowing hard, he started to back away again but she was holding onto his wrist.  
  
“What do you want from me?” he asked, exasperated too.  
  
“I don’t want to be stuck in the middle!” she countered. “You’re sweet and sensitive and I care about you. Lena’s got a cinnamon roll interior--she’s sweet once you really get to know her and see past her smokescreen. You’re both my best friends and you’re both important to me. Please, Dewey. Don’t put me in this position.”  
  
“You’re in love with both of us, aren’t you?” he asked, feeling his heart thud dully in his chest.  
  
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I have too much going on right now. Why did you have to kiss me now?”  
  
“You looked like you needed to be kissed!” he said, which wasn’t an argument at all, but it was the best he could come up with on such short notice. This wasn’t going at all how he’d pictured. Of course, in most of his imaginary scenarios, she’d confess her love for him too, fling her arms about him, and kiss him passionately. It dawned on him belatedly that that might’ve been a bit far-fetched.  
  
“How did I look like I needed to be kissed? How am I supposed to look?” she asked, throwing her hands in the air. At least she’d released him.  
  
“You always look like you need to be kissed because you need to be kissed!” he said. Now he knew he wasn’t making sense. “You don’t even know how adorable you are. How pretty. You drive me crazy. I had to kiss you. Even if it’s just once to know what it was like.”  
  
“And what was it like?” she asked.  
  
“Like magic, like the planets were all aligning and everything was coming together. Like flying,” he said. “Like that soaring feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you rise up in the air and everything is going to be all right.”  
  
Webby pulled her knees to her chest. Her hair fell over her ears and he tucked it back. He knew he ought to keep his hands to himself, but he couldn’t stop himself.  
  
“How did it feel for you?” he asked, wary of the answer.  
  
“Like butterflies in my stomach,” she whispered. “Like my whole body was tingling.”  
  
“Then...I don’t see the problem,” he said and she glowered.  
  
“The problem is that I get like that around Lena too!” she said. “And I don’t know what it means, I can’t ask Granny because she’s in a magically induced coma, and my best friend might be a traitor and I don’t know either. I don’t know anything and it’s so damn frustrating!”  
  
She drew a deep breath to brace herself.  
  
“I don’t know what’s going to happen…” she said in a small voice. “I don’t want to lose either of you. I want you both. Why can’t I have you both?”  
  
Dewey frowned. He hadn’t considered sharing her before. It was possible, but unlikely. Dragons tended to take mates for life and of those, only one mate. There were rare instances where a threesome materialized, but he knew nothing of those. Could he share Webby if push came to shove? Would Lena be able to share her?  
  
He knew Lena had feelings for Webby. The only person who didn’t know was, of course, Webby. He loved her, but she was too oblivious for her own good sometimes. It made him want to bang his head into the wall.  
  
She pulled him back toward her and kissed him briefly on the lips. Her hands lingered, fisted in his shirt, and, after another moment’s indecision, she pulled him back to kiss him again. He kissed her back eagerly, not sure if this meant she’d chosen him or she wasn’t choosing anyone. He didn’t care. He’d take what he could get for now.  
  
She pulled him onto her lap and he wrapped his arms around her. Maybe he was taking advantage of the situation, when she was emotionally compromised. Maybe he should back away. But she didn’t want him to and he didn’t have enough strength to pull himself away.  
  
Besides, what was the worst that could happen? He held her tightly and whispered when they broke apart, “I love you, Webs.”  
  
She sighed, resting her forehead against his.  
  
“I guess I can’t say that I have familial feelings for you, huh?” she said, her lips quirked. She ran her fingers through his cowlick and he beamed at her. Lowering his head, he kissed her again. She shut her eyes this time.  
  
It wasn’t permanent. It might not even last beyond this precious bubble moment in her room. But, again, he’d take what he could get. And if this was what he could get, well, he wasn’t going to complain.  
  
\----  
  
Mrs. Beakley was awake, but not strictly aware of what was going on. She floated in a nebulous haze, where she knew something was happening and that she was injured, but not the extent nor what was happening to her body. If it weren’t for the magic and drugs coursing through her system, she would have been disconcerted enough to achieve consciousness. She couldn’t reach it now, but she did reach out for Webby. If Bentina was injured, then she needed to know how her granddaughter was doing and whether she was all right.  
  
There was a weird gauze-like barrier between her and Webbigail. She didn’t like it and her granddaughter’s mind was hazy. Or perhaps that was Bentina. She fretted.  
  
((I’m okay, Granny,)) Webby reassured her. Her voice echoed oddly and, reassured, Bentina sank back down into the morass. She could feel Webby clamoring for her, asking for more details and begging her to stay, but she’d only had enough strength to pull herself anywhere near the surface for Webby. Now that she knew she was all right, she could rest.  
  
((Granny, no!)) Webby cried and her mental voice was anguished.  
  
((Come back! Don’t...don’t leave me... _Granny_ …))  
  
She could feel her sobbing and she would have reached out again to comfort her, but she was drained. She let herself go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby talks to Della about Dewey. Della speaks to Donald about her insecurities and worries as a mother. Lena talks to Dewey...and discovers she has a rival for Webby's affections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen the new ep yet, but I heard it's pretty good? I'm assuming there are no Lena references, though. Boo hiss.

Webby was sitting alone in her grandmother’s sick room. Lena and Uncle Scrooge were still talking and Della had wanted a word with Dewey. Watching her grandmother in her coma made her feel impotent. It was unnatural for her grandmother to be so still. The bandages had been replaced; Cal had said that her grandmother had been lucky Magica hadn’t had a stronger grip on her neck. She could’ve snapped it. The thought wasn’t comforting.  
  
She didn’t know what she’d do if her grandmother died. For one thing, she had no idea who her parents were. While she’d helped the triplets locate and rescue their mother, she’d never put that effort into finding her own. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know. She did. It was just that her grandmother was so forbidding about her parents and Webby had decided a long time ago not to ask.  
  
Now she regretted it. Uncle Scrooge might know a little about her parents, but not enough to satisfy her. Webby sighed, squeezing her grandmother’s limp hand. No one knew what had driven Magica to attack her. Well, other than the obvious of Magica being a bitch, but that was a given.  
  
The door opened behind her, but it was just Cal coming to check in on his patient. He inclined his head toward Webby but didn’t speak. That was fine. Webby wasn’t sure she was capable of carrying on a conversation right now. She kept thinking of Dewey kissing her and the butterflies she’d felt with him and Lena. If he was right, then Lena was in love with her too.  
  
Why did everything have to be so complicated?  
  
There were situations where three dragons formed a Bond. (A Bond being a sacred magical compact that linked someone to someone else mind, body, and soul and usually resulted in offspring). Webby wasn’t sure about the power balance there or how it would work. They all needed to be in love with each other and so far, all she could ascertain was that Dewey and Lena were both in love with her and she loved both of them. But Lena and Dewey didn’t love each other.  
  
Webby sighed, curling up in the chair. Her lips still tingled from Dewey’s. Who did you talk to about crushes when the only people you normally spoke with were your crushes? She could leave the room and seek out Huey, but Huey wasn’t the best at communication when it came to relationships. He tended to do everything by the book, whatever book he happened to be consulting that week. Louie, who would’ve known about Lena and Dewey long before Webby had, would probably not see this as a problem.  
  
There was always Launchpad, but unless you wanted stoner logic, it was probably best not to speak with him. She wracked her brains for another adult she could speak with. Most of them she discarded out of hand. There were the triplets’ uncle or their mother. Dewey had said Della wanted to speak with her.  
  
She wasn’t used to thinking of going to Della, despite the older female dragon being back at the manor for years now. When she thought about relying on someone, her grandmother was the first person who came to mind. She wished her grandmother was awake and could answer her questions. Then again...she knew next to nothing about her grandmother’s romantic entanglements. There wasn’t even a Mr. Beakley. Webby had no idea who her grandfather was and the same went for her parents.  
  
She sat there for a while, staring at her grandmother and trying to avoid thinking about anything in particular. It was difficult when her mind raced. It was like the harder she tried to circumvent those thoughts, the more prevalent they became. She wanted to throttle something.  
  
Cal exited and Webby grimaced. There wasn’t much she could do here. True, she could sit and hope her grandmother made it out of her medically induced coma, but that could be days or weeks from now. The idea struck her anew with horror. Her grandmother could be out of commission for a very long time; if she ever woke up, that was.  
  
“Granny?” she whispered.  
  
She reached out to her mentally, but it was like attempting to grasp at straws. They slipped through her fingers and she huddled, miserable. Since she wasn’t Bonded, she couldn’t reach out to her best friends mentally. Only family members could communicate via telepathy and only close family members at that. Della and Donald had it because they were twins, Huey, Dewey, and Louie had it because they were triplets, and she and her grandmother were tight. Apparently, Lena had it with Magica, though not by choice. It must’ve had to do with Magica’s brand of sorcery.  
  
She could pull out a book and read, but what was the point? She wouldn’t be able to focus. Perhaps she ought to seek out Della. In the very least, it might resolve one of her problems.  
  
“I’ll be back, Granny,” she promised and kissed her on the forehead. Normally, she couldn’t reach that high unless she stood on her tiptoes. It brought to mind all the times her grandmother had tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. Webby’s heart clenched.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Leaving her grandmother alone was hard to do, though she knew her grandmother wouldn’t have noticed either way. And that stung too.  
  
She found Della where she normally would--in her chair in the library. Since the accident had left her paralyzed from the waist down, Della spent a lot of time reading and living vicariously through her sons and the adventure novels she devoured. It was a shadow of a life and it was partially this that made Scrooge expend all this time and money into healing her. The rest was probably because Della didn’t want to be immobile forever. She couldn’t shapeshift as a paralyzed dragon either.  
  
“Webby!” Della called and wheeled over to her. The library originally had thick carpets, but as it didn’t work with the chair, Scrooge had had them ripped out and replaced with wood. Della was happy to see her and, for a few seconds, Webby saw Dewey in her face. The boundless enthusiasm was catchy.  
  
“Hi,” Webby said. She was never sure whether to call her “Miss Dragon” or “Aunt Della”--the latter of which Della preferred. It just felt awkward for some reason; it’d taken her a long time to get used to “Uncle Scrooge” as opposed to Mr. McDragon.  
  
“I heard about your grandmother,” Della said and patted a chair nearby. Webby dutifully went over and sat down. Tables were spaced throughout the library so that anyone, like Huey for example, could grab a book and plunk himself down. Her granny usually kept the library well organized and cleaned--Webby had no idea what would happen with her out of commission. It might fall upon their ghost butler, Duckworth, to do something.  
  
“Bad news sure travels fast,” she muttered.  
  
“But that’s not the reason you came here, is it?”  
  
Della cocked her head and surveyed Webby. “Ah, I see. He told you how he felt.”  
  
“He kissed me,” she said and blushed. “I told him I don’t know how I feel about him or about Lena and then I kissed him back and I don’t even know what’s going on. And I can’t talk to Lena about this because she’s involved in it and then there’s the whole thing with Magica…”  
  
“What ‘thing’ with Magica?” Della asked sharply. “This is the first I’ve heard about anything with Magica; other than her biting your grandmother’s neck, that is. I don’t see how she has to do with Lena.”  
  
“Lena’s Magica’s niece and her puppet for the last four years,” Webby said. “She’s been trying to control her and hurting her mentally with magical attacks when she doesn’t do her bidding.”  
  
“For Scrooge’s number one piece of treasure, I’ll wager,” Della said softly. “And the elixir that permits anyone to shapeshift. Magica must be going crazy right about now. That would explain why she attacked your grandmother. Lena’s been stalling for years.”  
  
“But why?” Webby asked. “Why would she do that when it hurts her?”  
  
Della gave her a pointed look. “Louie’s been taking bets on how long it would take for you to realize she was in love with you. So far, he hasn’t had to pay out.”  
  
“She really is in love with me?” she asked and Della nodded.  
  
“Then...she’s enduring all of that pain for me...because she wants to be near me…” Webby said. She felt awful, both for Lena and because she’d kissed Dewey back. How could she prize one friend over the other? How could she let Lena down like that when Lena had gone through hell and back for her?  
  
But she loved Dewey too.  
  
“Uncle Scrooge will protect her as long as she’s under this roof,” Della said. “So you needn’t worry about Magica getting into the manor or attacking her or your grandmother again.”  
  
“I hate that I have to choose and that, one way or another, someone’s going to end up getting hurt,” Webby groaned.  
  
“You don’t have to choose,” Della said and squeezed her shoulder. “Go with your heart. And if your heart wants them both, well, they’ll have to share you.”  
  
“Did you do that?” Webby asked.  
  
“Selene and the triplets’ father,” Della said with a small smile. “It didn’t work out, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault. And Dewey and Lena are much more loyal to you than the boys’ father was to me.”  
  
She wasn’t sure how to take that. Della spoke only sparingly of the boys’ father. They didn’t know who he was--in fact, other than Della, no one knew who their father was. She wasn’t sure why Della was so reticent to share details, but it was no doubt painful to recall.  
  
“Do you think they’d be okay with it, though?” she pressed.  
  
“I can’t speak for them,” she said. “It might be shocking at first, but, if they really love you, they’ll give it a chance.”  
  
Webby wasn’t sure what to say now that wouldn’t be repeating herself. She nodded and Della squeezed her shoulder.  
  
“No matter what you decide, I’m here for you. Even if you don’t pick Dewey,” she said and then smiled. “But I may be prejudiced in his favor. I am his mother, after all.”  
  
\----  
  
Della watched Webby leave with a small smile on her face. Yes, she was hoping for Dewey to win Webby over. She wouldn’t deny that she had a fondness for the girl too. Webby was a sweet girl and a good counterpoint to her middle son. Plus, she had always felt like Webby was part of the family. This would just make it official.  
  
With no one watching her, she eased herself out of her chair and walked, slowly, toward the bookshelves. She had lied to Dewey when she’d said she couldn’t really walk. It hurt, stabbing pains down her legs, but she could move about. With a cane, she could pace the length of the library. She ought to know--she’d been practicing. She wanted to be able to dance at the triplets’ coming out party, but she wanted it to be a surprise.  
  
She smiled. Dewey was her favorite, even if she said she didn’t play favorites. Dewey reminded her the most of her. It was probably why Dewey was also Uncle Scrooge’s favorite, not that he’d admit it either. However, Louie was Scrooge’s second favorite because of his affinity with treasure and money.  
  
For years, she had lived alone, depending on herself and feeling awfully lonely. At one point, she’d started imagining what Donald and Scrooge would say to feel less isolated. It hadn’t helped that she knew she’d orphaned her sons. Their father wouldn’t come forward--their father didn’t even know he had fertilized their eggs and she hadn’t told him. He wasn’t fit to be a parent.  
  
Then again, for years, she hadn’t been sure she was either. She still regretted missing her children’s lives and coming in after having lost so much. The boys didn’t hold it against her, but she did.  
  
The boys were angels to stop blaming her. She wasn’t capable of such forgiveness, not of herself. It was difficult to forgive herself when she had permanent scars from her ill-fated adventure. Sighing, she grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling over. Easing her way slowly back to her chair, she pounded a fist against the chair’s side.  
  
She wanted to be whole. She wanted to be the mother the triplets deserved. She couldn’t help but feel she was failing them.  
  
Although they’d been separated for years, Donald always seemed to know when she needed him. When she turned her chair toward the entrance, she found her twin waiting for her. It might be twin telepathy, where he could read her emotions, or perhaps he was just checking up on her. The sight of him was comforting.  
  
As always, when she feared he might be an apparition conjured by her desperate mind, he walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was soft, warm, and real. Della met her brother’s gaze.  
  
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They’d been together so long that she could read him intuitively. Donald moved away to close the library door and after she was certain no one was coming in, she gave vent to her misery. Only Donald knew the extent of her doubts and concerns regarding her inadequacies as a mother. He’d raised the triplets before her rescue. If anyone knew them, it was him. If anyone knew her, it was him too.  
  
Grabbing a chair, he sat beside her. Her lips quirked; it was the same seat that Dewey had vacated. She rested her head against his shoulder and they sat in companionable silence, occasionally punctuated by her sobs. He was letting her cry herself out; he wrapped an arm about her waist.  
  
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he spoke.  
  
“You’re enough,” he said quietly. “They love you and you’re a good mother.”  
  
Della shook her head. “I don’t feel like it.”  
  
“You are,” he insisted and squeezed her hand. “And you’ll dance at their party and it’ll all work out. You’ll see.”  
  
Della laughed humorlessly. “How did you know I’ve been practicing walking?”  
  
“I know you,” he said. “If it’s a challenge, you won’t give up until you’ve conquered it.”  
  
She sighed. “I wish I had the confidence in me that you have.”  
  
“That’s because you don’t see yourself as I do,” he said, smiling at her. “You’re the brave explorer/adventurer Della Dragon. You’re not going to let this get to you and if you need a little help getting there, then I’m here for you.”  
  
She smiled back.  
  
“Are you asking Daisy to the party?” she said, wanting to change the subject to visit a more pleasant topic.  
  
“I was thinking of it,” he said. “Are you asking Launchpad? He has a crush on you, you know.”  
  
“Oh, I know,” Della said, stifling a groan. “He’s about as subtle about it as his crashes. One of these days, he’s going to break his neck. If he hadn’t figured out a way to be immortal, that is. He has to be immortal to survive all of those crashes.”  
  
“Then who are you taking?” he asked.  
  
“No one that I know of…” she said, shaking her head. “I have enough trouble thinking of how I’m going to walk around and interact with people.”  
  
Donald stroked her hair, which reminded her of when they were children and he’d brushed it out. She relaxed against him.  
  
“It’ll all work out,” he reassured her. “You’ll see.”  
  
“Maybe,” she said, unconvinced but wanting to be for Donald’s sake. “I guess ‘we’ll see’ is right.”  
  
“Aw, c’mon,” he soothed. “Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, could they?”  
  
“You always say that just before the pit full of spikes opens up beneath us…” she said, shaking her head. “Excuse my lack of confidence.”  
  
\-----  
  
Lena de Spell felt like she was treading on thin ice, although Scrooge had assured her she was all right. Never mind that she was now a virtual prisoner within McDragon Manor. It was the only place where Magica couldn’t reach her, which meant it made strategic sense for her to remain here. It also meant that she couldn’t leave or Magica would attack her with a vengeance. So, really, when you thought about it, nothing had changed, save that everyone now knew she was in thrall to Magica.  
  
It hadn’t taken long for the triplets to find her a room and Dewey was talking to her, but she’d been tuning him out. She was fussing with the friendship bracelet Webby had given her years ago. Whatever Dewey was saying might be important. She didn’t know. She wasn’t terribly interested, to tell the truth.  
  
Growling, he put his hands on his hips and then clapped his hands in front of her.  
  
“You’re not paying attention,” he snapped.  
  
“Demanding attention,” she said. “Must be a middle child thing.”  
  
“I declared my intentions for Webby earlier,” he said with the air of someone who was repeating himself and not expecting a response this time either. “And I know you have feelings for her too.”  
  
Lena felt like someone had dropped a rock into her stomach.  
  
“You’re kidding me,” she said. “You’re in love with her.”  
  
“So are you,” he pointed out.  
  
Holy shit, she so did not need this right now. As always when she was stressed, her magic went haywire and one of the lamps fell off a dresser table to land on the rug. It hadn’t shattered, perhaps because it’d landed on a soft surface. If she had had her druthers, it probably would have shattered.  
  
Dewey’s gaze followed the lamp and then returned to her.  
  
Lena knew how courting worked with the upper echelons. Since Webby was of a higher class due to her grandmother’s position with Scrooge, that meant it would be advantageous for Webby to pursue a relationship with Dewey. The lamp’s base cracked and she balled her fists. She was sitting on a green four poster bed and her heart was racing.  
  
“I also, might have, uh, kissed her,” he admitted and she bolted upright. This time, the lamp’s base shattered, sending shards flying everywhere. Dewey ducked before he got hit; Lena might be frustrated with the situation, but she didn’t want to hurt him.  
  
“So maybe you should kiss her too,” he suggested hurriedly. “To see what it’s like. And help her make her decision.”  
  
“She said she didn’t want to decide between us, didn’t she?” Lena said, arching her eyebrows.  
  
“She might’ve said something like that, yeah,” he agreed. “She doesn’t have to, strictly speaking.”  
  
“How many three way relationships have you seen?” she countered. “It’s not like it’s the norm in Dragonburg.”  
  
“I’m saying we can make it work if it’s important to her,” he stressed. “You know she loves us both.”  
  
“I know, but in what way?” she pressed, exasperated. “With Webby, she’s so enthusiastic and affectionate it’s hard to tell.”  
  
“Ask her? Maybe not right now--she was talking Mom earlier--maybe wait until Mrs. Beakley wakes up?”  
  
“You didn’t wait,” she said, cross. “Boys have no sense of timing.”  
  
“She looked like she needed to be kissed!” he said defensively. “You’ve seen her! Can you honestly say that she doesn’t look like she needs to be kissed all the time?”  
  
“At least I have self control.”  
  
“And you’re saying I don’t.”  
  
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”  
  
“I had to kiss her, all right? And she kissed me back!”  
  
Lena went cold. Dewey hadn’t revealed that little tidbit earlier. If Webby had kissed Dewey back, then didn’t that make it game over? Webby wouldn’t have kissed Dewey back if she didn’t have feelings for him. But Dewey had said she loved both of them. Or was that just a crock designed to get her hopes up before he smashed them?  
  
“Lena,” he said and she glowered at him. “That’s why I suggested you kiss her too. So she knows where she stands with us. And, even though it hurts to think it, I would share her if that’s what she wants.”  
  
Lena was silent for a time. Usually, love triangles didn’t work out in the underdog’s favor. Dewey had all the advantages here. Plus, his mom would put in a good word for him with Webby. Aunt Magica would sooner tell Lena to jump into an active volcano than compliment her to Webs. Lena tried not to feel despondent, though it was difficult.  
  
“We’ll see what she wants, shall we?” she said, sounding braver than she felt. She moved toward the door and Dewey tugged at her hand.  
  
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said and he looked earnest. “I didn’t mean to. I know you’re going through stuff too right now. I’m here for you too, if you want me to be.”  
  
She studied him. Though she had always been suspicious of people’s motives, she knew the Dragon family well enough to know they were rarely duplicitous (and even then, it was usually Louie). She withheld a smirk. Llewellyn. Lena still didn’t know why their mother had named him that, although it was the bane of Louie’s existence.  
  
“Okay,” she said and he surprised her by hugging her. She hugged him back, albeit reluctantly at first. She wasn’t used to being touched by someone who wasn’t Webby or, unfortunately, Aunt Magica.  
  
“Just talk to her, okay? You’re closer to her than anyone I know and besides, you both need to talk things out,” he reasoned.  
  
She nodded, feeling like a puppet on a string, and went to seek out Webby. Lena wished she had the ability to track her down mentally, but that was only for Bonded couples. She didn’t share Webby’s mind, spirit, or her soul right now. Yet. Although if Dewey was right, then they’d all be wrapped up together. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  
  
But for Webby...she’d do it. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Hopefully, Webby would make up her mind...and make it up in Lena’s favor. Not that Lena would pressure her. She wanted her best friend to be happy, even if it wasn’t with her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone actually read these things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm up to where I stopped writing for this series, but I started another chapter just now. So yay, I guess, for all ??? of you who are reading.

She found Webby in her room and staring at a book without seeing it. She flipped the page back and forth and Lena knocked on the door. At least the younger girl had left it open; she might have just not had the energy to close it. When she knocked, Webby looked up.

  


“Hey,” Lena said, knowing this conversation was bound to be awkward. “Did you want to talk?”

  


Or stare blankly at something. Lena’s tail twitched, betraying her agitation, and she folded her arms across her chest. It was possible Webby hadn’t noticed. The younger girl looked rather distracted, thinking of Dewey and her grandmother. Lena stepped back. Perhaps this was intruding too far. After all, her aunt had attacked Webby’s grandmother. Maybe Webby didn’t need the reminder.

  


“I can come back later,” she suggested when Webby didn’t answer. Lena’s tail swept around behind her like she was trying to play jump rope with it. She stomped on it to keep it from moving and then gritted her teeth at the pain. Heads you lose, tails you lose.

  


“Never mind,” Lena said, hurt but determined not to show it. She had been asking too much.

  


“Wait,” Webby said as Lena was about to close the door behind her and leave her to her misery. Lena turned back, her heart thudding in her chest. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions which was probably how Webby felt too.

  


“If you don’t wanna talk, that’s cool,” Lena said. “Don’t feel like I’m forcing you.”

  


“I do,” Webby said and sighed. “Come in. You might as well close the door behind you.”

  


Lena joined Webby on the bed and Webby tossed the paperback. It looked like one of Della’s, about daring adventure on the open seas. She never read anything about getting lost in rainforests, as that hit too close to home. Judging by the haste with which Webby discarded the novel, she hadn’t been reading it for long. Or at all.

  


“I’m sorry about my aunt,” she said. “But you knew she was a bitch.”

  


Webby touched her cheek and Lena cradled her hand against it. The time for subterfuge and subtlety had passed. Dewey had already made his move. And she couldn’t deny it--Webby always looked like she needed to be kissed. Still, Lena was reluctant to push her right now.

  


“You endured years of pain from her just to be near me,” Webby said and Lena’s lips twitched. Sometimes, she thought Webby was more princess than a trained assassin. She had no difficulty imagining her in the frilly get-ups that traditional royals wore. (Of course, with Dragonburg being an oligarchy, there were no princes or princesses, but Lena was free to imagine them).

  


“Aunt Della said you’re in love with me.”

  


“I love you, Webby,” she said and her heart raced saying the words aloud. “But you can be pretty dense about certain things. You didn’t notice that Dewey or I was in love with you. You haven’t noticed and it’s been years. So it’s not like I was expecting you to suddenly pay attention.”

  


Her hand atop Webby’s was growing warm and conflicting thoughts ran through her mind. She wanted to kiss Webby, she thought it’d be a mistake, she wanted to feel her close to her, she needed to break this off if Webby wanted Dewey and not her…

  


“I’m sorry,” she said and shook her head. Lena was trying to work out, specifically, what she was sorry about considering where her thoughts had gone in the last few minutes. Before she had a chance to do that and remember what they’d been talking about, Webby kissed her.

  


This was not a scenario Lena had anticipated. She sat, stunned. Webby was her first kiss. Of course, Lena had planned it that way because she hadn’t wanted anyone else near her. However, she had resigned herself to the fact that it was never going to happen. Webby was too oblivious to ever notice her affection for her. She’d assume everything was platonic unless proven otherwise.

  


She recovered before Webby had a chance to pull back and kissed her passionately in response. She was a tad overeager, much like Webby, and they fell over on the bed. Webby stopped, staring at her, and Lena saw her grin mirrored on Webby’s face.

  


“I thought I’d kiss you to compare the two,” Webby said and then twirled her hair around her finger. “Not that I’m getting rid of one of you in the favor of other--Aunt Della said that if my heart wants both of you, then I should go for it.”

  


If Della Dragon hadn’t been such a famous figure and the niece of Dragonburg’s most powerful leader, people might’ve been tempted to denigrate her for that. Of course, Webby was in the same boat, almost. No one would castigate her if she decided not to choose, although Lena was uncertain how long she wanted to share her. Then again, she’d been sharing her for years...and it wasn’t like she’d ever thought she’d get this far.

  


(But was it selfish to want Webby to herself?

  


“You know most people have one mate and that’s it, right?” Lena said, cocking her eyebrow at Webby. Her lips tingled from the kiss and she wanted to jump around for joy. It was an effort to play it cool and collected.

  


“I can’t help it,” she said, bashful. “I want to be with both of you.”

  


Lena just wanted her to kiss her again. It had almost been enough to make her forget her current predicament. Wait, did that mean she had permission? Ugh...she wasn’t going to agonize over this any further. She leaned forward and kissed her again; she wasn’t sure if Webby would pull away, but she didn’t.

  


Instead, the younger girl pulled her closer and threw her arms around her neck. Webby was shaking, however, and Lena frowned into the kiss. Webby was doing what she always did--suppressing her emotions to make someone else happy. While Lena didn’t doubt that Webby wanted to be with both of them, she did doubt that Webby could so easily discard her concern over Mrs. Beakley.

  


“Maybe...maybe we should hold off on this…” she said, though it was killing her to withdraw from something she had wanted for years. Now she almost knew how Magica felt. Almost.

  


“Why?” Webby protested, but there were tears in her eyes, which made Lena’s heart clench.

  


“We need to talk about what happened,” she said. “We didn’t get a chance to talk before about this whole crazy situation.”

  


“I can’t talk to you,” Webby said, which stung. Perhaps something of this showed on her face, because Webby hastily added, “Not that I don’t want to. But how do you talk about a crush with that crush? And...I’m not really worried about Granny. Really.”

  


Lena smirked. “Uh huh. I don’t believe you.”

  


The house shuddered and Lena flinched, the smirk vanishing. It almost felt like Magica was trying her luck against the charms protecting the manor. She knew she was on Magica’s shit list big time for this stunt.

  


“Why don’t you talk first?” Webby countered.

  


“There’s not much to say,” she said, reluctant to get into it. She’d already had it dragged out of her by Scrooge. She didn’t relish Webby doing the same. The worst part was she had no one to blame but herself for inciting this. Webby had raised her eyebrows right back at her and Lena sighed.

  


“How badly does Magica hurt you?” Webby asked and stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. Lena’s heart skittered around, as it always did when Webby touched her.

  


“How badly do I need to hurt her in response to what she did to you and Granny?” she continued.

  


“Woah, woah,” she said. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, pink.”

  


“I can’t sit here and do nothing,” Webby objected. “At least if I go after her, I’m doing something.”

  


“Like getting yourself killed?” Lena snapped. She modified her tone after Webby winced. “Sorry. But you don’t know what you’re up against. The only person who’s managed to take on Aunt Magica and win is Scrooge and I don’t know how he did it. He tricked her.”

  


“Did you ever think that maybe it’s your fear talking?” she suggested gently. “That maybe you’re stronger than you think you are?”

  


Lena didn’t say anything and Webby turned her face in her direction. She had to keep her eyes from drifting down to her lips again. Holy crap, did she want to kiss her again.

  


“Lena, you’re the strongest person I know after my granny,” Webby said. “If you really wanted to, with Uncle Scrooge’s and my help, I bet you could take down Magica once and for all.”

  


“I…” Lena faltered, uncertain how to react to that. She’d lived so long without hope of banishing Magica that the thought of defeating her was impossible. Webby was so earnest and Scrooge had defeated Magica before, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Her mind went blank.

  


“But we don’t have to worry about that yet,” Webby added. She ran her fingers through Lena’s hair and Lena shut her eyes to better enjoy the sensation. She leaned against her and Webby kissed her cheek.

  


“We can worry about the coming out party and all that fun stuff,” Webby said.

  


“Was there a difference between my kissing you and Dewey?” Lena asked, suddenly needing to know.

  


“Mmm...no, not really,” Webby answered. “The same kind of giddy excitement and passion from both of you that I felt too. Maybe by the time the party comes around, I’ll have made up my mind.”

  


She found Lena’s hand, which had fallen off her cheek, and held it. “No matter what, we’re still best friends. I’ll never forsake you. I love you.”

  


“I love you too,” Lena said, wishing Webby would make up her mind sooner. But then again, if she did, who was to say that she’d choose her?

  


\----

  


They were going to have to deal with Magica. She’d been a menace for too long and he’d been foolish to think that banishing her would derail her. Instead, she’d used an innocent child as a pawn for fifteen years; just thinking about the abuse Lena must have endured incensed him. He was aware by forcing her to linger in the house that he was virtually imprisoning her, but he saw no alternative. The instant Magica sunk her claws into Lena again, she would destroy her for her betrayal. Scrooge knew how Magica’s mind worked all too well.

  


He couldn’t count on the other members of the oligarchy to support him in this. Glomgold would’ve taken advantage of Scrooge’s difficulties and teamed up with Magica. It had happened once before. Mark Beaks was too self-absorbed to care. As for John D. Rockerdragon, no one had seen him in ages. Scrooge doubted the old tycoon was still alive.

  


Luring Magica out had worked before, but it had ended in Mrs. Beakley nearly perishing. The problem was that if he went to Magica, she’d have a fight on her home turf. There, she would have the advantage. Of course, she wouldn’t have much of an advantage, considering that her magic was close to nil and her only assistant was a bird whose mental capacity diminished by the day. Scrooge allowed himself a moment of pity for Poe; he had probably wanted what was best for Lena until Magica had swept him up into her schemes.

  


Unfortunately, with Mrs. Beakley out of commission, only he could prove a match for Magica. He couldn’t ask Webby to fight her--she was too young, she wasn’t as experienced, and he would not risk the life of a child. Besides, this was his battle. He had left the loose ends for far too long.

  


With that settled, he realized he’d have no choice but to attack her where he least wanted to. He couldn’t risk bringing her to the manor again. Even with powerful protection spells about the house, Magica’s target would be Webby, who would find it hard to stay out of the fight. She would be determined to seek revenge for Lena and her grandmother. He cared for the child, but he sometimes worried that she was a little too gung-ho about things.

  


If he was going to confront Magica, he needed a plan. She would attempt to get him on the defensive as soon as possible. On the plus side, she had no access to the complex and dangerous spells she’d used during their full fledged battle. On the minus side, she would be far more desperate to hurt him. He thought he could handle her, despite his age. As far as he was concerned, he was in the prime of his life. Age meant little to nothing. Dragons could be immortal.

  


The problem, among other things, was that he hadn’t shifted into dragon form in quite some time. He preferred to stay in humanoid form, which was smaller and more adroit. Dragon form was more powerful, true, but it came with limitations. Then again, everything did. He stared at his hand and flipped his wrist, changing his hand from its soft, pink version to the white scaled and black taloned foot. If he willed it, he could transform completely right here, but then there’d be no room for him. His dragon form was bigger than the manor.

  


Hmm. He could use someone to scout out the terrain and report back. Or, conversely, he could ask Lena to tell him as much as she could. By now, Magica had to have deduced that Lena had betrayed him. He couldn’t send her out to talk to Magica; she’d kill her. His hands were back to normal and his fists trembled. She was just a child.

  


What he would have liked to do was hash out a battle plan with Bentina, but Calente had said she had yet to recover consciousness. He had indicated that some level telepathy may have transpired between her and Webbigail, but he couldn’t be certain. It was possible that something else had caught his attention. It was hard to tell unless you were the recipient whether someone was sending or receiving a telepathic message.

  


Nonetheless, he felt obligated to check in on his bodyguard. She appeared much as she had before, with heavy bandanging on her throat, and didn’t stir at his arrival. In fact, she appeared not to have noticed it. Scrooge assumed that Cal had simulated a magical coma to prevent her from over-exerting herself. It seemed to be working, inasmuch as Bentina wasn’t moving, but it was rather depressing to see his bodyguard laid out like this.

  


Even if she’d been conscious enough for telepathy, he wouldn’t share it with her. He was neither a member of her family nor a mate. (The thought brought a faint flush to his cheeks--Goldie was still around the manor somewhere). Still, he would like to hope that if she had anything to convey, she would figure out a way to do it. Bentina was nothing if not resourceful.

  


He couldn’t go gallivanting around with Goldie, not until Bentina was better and Magica was dealt with. Perhaps Donald could help with strategy. He’d served in the aerial corps (since the dragons had no need for a navy) and might know tactics. It was strange to think of his nephew in that manner; however, he ought to respect his knowledge instead of thinking Donald was too careful. True, whatever he proposed would probably entail watching and waiting to get the jump on her.

  


He found Donald with Della in the library. Della was standing with braces on her legs. Her teeth were gritted from the effort of walking about the room and she swayed, her balance none too trustworthy. Her twin caught her before she fell and they both turned to look at Scrooge.

  


“Aha, I knew you were hiding something from me, lassie,” Scrooge said with a grin. “You’ve been practicing, eh?”

  


Della flushed, caught in the act. “I’ll be better by the boys’ coming out party next week.”

  


She didn’t want to complain; despite her assurances, he could see how much moving cost her in the pained lines on her forehead and her gritted teeth. Finally, she collapsed next to Donald and Donald inclined his head toward his uncle.

  


“What is it, Uncle Scrooge?” he asked.

  


“Magica de Spell,” he said, seeing no point in mincing words or beating around the bush. “She’s been a public menace for too long and now that she’s lost Lena as a pawn, she’s going to get desperate.”

  


“Desperate enough to make a mistake?” Della suggested. “There’s no cosmic event that’s coming that’ll boost her powers, is there?”

  


“Samhain,” Donald said. “Halloween. The actual astrological date is November 5th...which is coming up soon.”

  


“When darkness overpowers the light…” Scrooge said thoughtfully, perturbed that he’d forgotten this. Samhain was largely metaphorical and few people noted its occurrence, much less celebrated it. However, he knew anything to do with the old ways would beguile Magica. Plus she had nothing further to lose. People like that were always more dangerous because they feared nothing.

  


“She’s been in exile this whole time,” Della said. It looked like she’d wanted to add that nothing had befallen them since then, but then she remembered Mrs. Beakley. Her gaze dropped to the table and Donald put a hand on her shoulder.

  


“Aye, she has. Plotting my downfall and her triumphant return, no doubt,” he said.

  


“So, we have to stop her before November 5th…” Donald said. “That gives us four days.”

  


“No pressure,” Della muttered.

  


“And in those four days, her powers will grow, as she’s affiliated with the dark, not the light,” Donald reminded them. He frowned. “You’re gonna need help.”

  


“I couldn’t ask you two to help me,” he said and Della huffed, glancing down at herself. Scrooge placed a hand on her other shoulder.

  


“I’m not blaming you for anything,” he said to Della softly. “I’m not upset with you, lass.”

  


“I’m upset with me,” Della said and her jaw trembled. This must’ve been what Donald and Della had been discussing before Scrooge had intruded. Della’s self-esteem had taken a beating since she’d gotten lost in the rainforest.

  


“We don’t have to accompany you, do we?” Donald asked, more pragmatic about this. “We can help you from here.”

  


“Yes, that’s why I came here,” he said. “I needed a battle strategy and I thought I’d catch you two together. Magica may have the advantage in terms of power and home territory, but we have something she wants. Multiple somethings. She’ll be hard-pressed to get at them any other way than through me.”

  


Donald frowned. “About that...about Lena?”

  


He shook his head. “Lena is non-negotiable.”

  


In a way, Lena’s predicament was his fault. If he hadn’t fought with Magica in the first place all those years ago, she wouldn’t have become a pawn in Magica’s schemes. It was regrettable, but all they could do now was move forward. There was no sense in haranguing himself about it. Heaven knew he’d done enough of that when it came to Della.

  


Thankfully, Donald dropped the subject. Lena wouldn’t make Scrooge vulnerable, not if she stayed put. She wouldn’t be happy about it, but he didn’t see an alternative.

  


“She’ll want to attack again when she’s at the height of her powers and she’s going to be looking for a new toady,” Scrooge said. “It’s a shame we don’t have any sorceresses on our side. We could’ve created a golem to fight her.”

  


Della frowned. No one really knew the extent of their magic beyond the dragon staples of flight, transformation, and fire. The Dragon and McDragon family, despite their names, seldom dabbled in magic. Most of it was considered the dark arts by Scrooge and therefore off limits. Webby had dabbled in magic, he felt certain, but he’d never caught her at it. She’d snuck stuff into the house--he was positive.

  


“Webby still could,” Donald said, confirming Scrooge’s theories. He smiled, chagrined. This must’ve been something he’d been keeping from Scrooge for a while. “She knows all the spells.”

  


“Even though she shouldn’t have been practicing magic in the house,” Scrooge muttered, finishing the sentence with a grimace.

  


“We could talk to her…” Della said. “But maybe give her a day or two.”

  


“I’m not sure we have a day or two,” he pointed out. “The longer we wait, the stronger Magica grows.”

  


He frowned deeper. “And it takes a day or two to construct a golem. If we wait two days, we’ll only just be ready on Samhain.”

  


“One day, then,” Della pleaded. “She needs a day to take in all that’s happened.”

  


“All right,” he agreed. “One day. But I’m going to ask her tomorrow.”

  


That wasn’t a full day and Della looked inclined to argue, but she swallowed her objections and nodded instead. He nodded back. It felt like the proverbial wolves were howling at his door and he’d left it ajar just enough for them to push their way in.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magica attempts to storm McDragon Manor from afar, Lena has a conversation with Mrs. Beakley, and Scrooge decides that he needs to enlist Lena's help in attacking and defeating Magica (since he has no idea where she is).

All night long the house shuddered as Magica attempted to breach the protections. Lena shuddered too, petrified that once they failed, her aunt would murder her. Webby had fallen asleep already and normally, Lena would have asked to bunk with her. Now, with Dewey as an issue between them, she’d decided to take a spare room. She regretted it, though, because she couldn’t sleep through Magica’s tantrums. She kept imagining Magica’s claws at her throat as she tore her to pieces.

 

She left her room to wander the manor. It was better than huddling in the dark and imagining the terrible things that her aunt wanted to be done to her. She crept toward Mrs. Beakley’s room. Webby hadn’t said that her grandmother had recovered enough to speak with. Lena felt guilty for her predicament. Magica had attacked her because of Lena. Because of Lena’s friendship with Webby and her inability to push it aside.

 

She pushed open the door and found Mrs. Beakley sitting upright. A desk lamp was on and a pen and pad were underneath her right hand. The doctor was nowhere to be found, but Lena figured he had to be nearby, especially if his patient was awake. Mrs. Beakley turned her head at Lena’s arrival. Maybe she should’ve knocked.

 

Or maybe she should duck back out. It was too late; Mrs. Beakley was writing something down on the pad and Lena crept closer to read it.

 

“Hello, Lena. I’m glad to see you’re all right.”

 

The house trembled from another magical onslaught and Lena winced. How long did Magica intend to keep this up? It was already two in the morning. Surely her bitch aunt had to sleep sometime.

 

“They know she’s my aunt now,” Lena said, gesturing toward the windows, where the glass shook in its frame. “Mr. McDragon wants me to stay here while he handles Aunt Magica. That’s why she’s been trying to break in. She knows which side I chose.”

 

Mrs. Beakley smiled and gestured for Lena to come closer. Lena halted outside of arm’s reach, just in case the older dragon intended to hurt her. Her tail swished again, uncertainty evident in her features. She was just a half-breed. She didn’t understand why Scrooge McDragon was putting so much effort into caring for her.

 

“There wasn’t much doubt about it, I guess, in the end,” Lena added. Mrs. Beakley had torn that page off and was writing something else down.

 

“How’s Webby?”

 

“She fell asleep before I did,” Lena said and then hesitated. Mrs. Beakley would want the unvarnished truth. “She was crying in her sleep.”

 

Mrs. Beakley frowned and started to write something else. Lena rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously and her tail swished back and forth. Irritated with it, she stomped on it and then clamped her mouth shut on a painful cry. Sometimes it felt like her tail had a mind of its own.

 

Whatever Mrs. Beakley had started, she scribbled out and instead wrote, “You’re safe here.”

 

“For how long?” Lena asked and the house shook its hardest ever, feeling like they were in the epicenter of an earthquake. The window glass cracked and Lena was sure that another hard magical shove would shatter it. She couldn’t practice magic inside of the house or she would’ve conjured up a protective barrier about herself and Mrs. Beakley.

 

“Does that woman ever sleep?” an irritated male voice said and Lena whirled, hand flying to her amulet regardless of how useless that was.

 

“Not you,” the man said, appearing at Mrs. Beakley’s side. “You ought to be resting. As for you, young lady--”

 

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before the windows shattered and the doctor cast a shield around them. It only lasted a few seconds, but that was long enough to prevent anyone from getting hit by glass shards. Lena’s chest hurt, her aunt’s naturally dark presence weighing on her through the astral plane, and she gasped out a quick apology to Mrs. Beakley before bursting out of the room to find Webby.

 

It wasn’t until she’d reached her door that she remembered Webby’s window was in another part of her room, not close enough to hit her if she was asleep in bed--she had a loft, which was where the window was.

 

Nonetheless, she pushed the door open. Webby was wide awake and the lights were on. As she’d suspected, the glass had likewise shattered in here and covered the floor in the loft above her bed. The house shuddered once more and then fell still, an ominous pause in Lena’s opinion. She didn’t see how her aunt could keep up the onslaught, all the while thinking that her aunt wouldn’t stop until she’d lured Webby or Lena out to kill them.

 

“She really wants you dead,” Webby said quietly, turning to face her. Her face was wet from crying and Lena rushed to her. She hugged her to her.

 

“I don’t care,” Lena said, which wasn’t entirely true. “She’s wanted me dead for years. As soon as I outlived my usefulness, she probably planned on killing me.”

 

Webby’s grip tightened on her. Despite the blase way she’d said it, or perhaps because of it, it seemed to have affected Webby harder than she’d intended. Webby clutched at her and Lena rested her chin on Webby’s head.

 

“Lena?”

 

It was Dewey and Lena started, whirling around with Webby in her arms.

 

“Hey, uh, are you okay?” Dewey said. “I went to check on you and Webby after I heard the glass shattering, but you weren’t in your room and Webby’s lights are on.”

 

Dewey stood in the doorway and looked awkward in his blue pajama outfit. It was so absurd, this whole situation, that Lena had to stifle hysterical laughter. Magica was trying to storm the manor and Dewey wanted to know if she was okay. If she took one step outside this house, she’d be murdered on the spot. And he wanted to know if she was okay.

 

She giggled insanely.

 

“Uh...I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’...” Dewey said, perturbed.

 

“Lena…” Webby said, stroking her cheek with the back of her hand. Now that she’d started, she was incapable of stopping. Dewey approached her and put a hand on her other cheek. She wasn’t sure why, but his touch calmed her down a little, enough to stifle the laughter.

 

“Your grandmother woke up,” Lena said, desperate to change the subject. She didn’t trust Dewey enough to discuss it in front of him and anyway...what was there to say? She’d been used and abused so much, withholding all that information, that she didn’t see the point in saying anything.

 

“Granny’s okay?” Webby burst out.

 

“She can’t speak aloud, but she can write her answers down,” Lena replied. “The doctor made her go back to sleep.”

 

“But she’s okay?” Webby asked, anxious.

 

“She’ll be all right,” Lena said, not sure if Webby’s grandmother would ever speak again but not wanting to complicate matters by bringing that up right now. Webby sagged in relief in her arms and Lena nuzzled her. It was a relief to be able to be affectionate with her, though it was disconcerting when Dewey smoothed back Lena’s hair. She wanted to tell him to stop, but it, like his hand on her cheek, was oddly soothing.

 

Another, much weaker concussion struck the house and then died away. By now, her aunt had to be exhausted. She’d been assaulting the house’s defenses for four hours to no avail. Lena entertained the faint hope that she might give up for a few hours and get some sleep.

 

“What about you?” Dewey said. “You didn’t answer my question.”

 

“That’s because I don’t have an answer,” she said.

 

“You don’t know if you’re okay,” Dewey said, nonplussed. “How do you not know a thing like that?”

 

“It’s all relative,” Lena said. She hadn’t been ‘all right’ in a very long time, though she was approaching it now in Webby’s arms. Between Webby and Dewey touching her, she felt grounded. She glanced up, expecting the house to shake again, but it didn’t. Maybe her aunt might have given up for the moment.

 

“It seems like that’d be a yes or no answer…” Dewey said, perturbed. She stroked Webby’s hair and didn’t respond.

 

“You’re staying here, right?” he said when it became apparent she wasn’t going to respond.

 

“Do I have a choice?” she retorted.

 

Webby’s eyelids fluttered and Lena remembered that it was the middle of the night. Somehow, with all the excitement going on, she’d forgotten. Her soothing ministrations must’ve reminded Webby she was tired. And her fatigue was catchy. Lena found herself relaxing too.

 

“It’s late,” Lena said and stretched. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

 

“Stay here,” Webby murmured and it was a good thing her eyes were closed or she would’ve seen the strange look Lena gave her. Her first reaction was “no”, followed by “well, why not?”. She couldn’t sort out her feelings. She knew she loved Webby. That had been a constant in her life. That didn’t explain her nascent reactions to Dewey.

 

“Is there enough room?” Dewey asked, eying Webby’s four poster bed.

 

“We’ll fit,” Lena said laconically. She wasn’t happy about sharing Webby and the whole situation was so strange she didn’t know how to quantify it.

 

They curled up on the bed with Webby in the middle. Lena held one hand and Dewey the other. By the time they had settled, Webby was fast asleep. She wasn’t crying anymore, at least, and a small smile curved her lips. Lena leaned forward, unable to resist, and kissed her.

 

She looked up to spy Dewey staring at her.

 

“What?”

 

“How long have you wanted to do that?” he asked. There was no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.

 

“What’s it to you?” she asked, guarded.

 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

 

Feeling like there was a trick that she couldn’t discern, she nodded. She stroked Webby’s cheek with her free hand.

 

“If Webby doesn’t choose between us, I just want you to know that I’m okay with that. That I’m okay sharing her if you are.”

 

“I’d rather not,” she said. “I’ve been making concessions for her all my life. I just want one thing to be mine for once.”

 

Dewey nodded and interlaced his fingers with Webby’s. “I get that. But I’m not going to disappear and neither are you.”

 

“Don’t make her choose between us.”

 

She was afraid she’d lose if Webby did.

 

“She’ll make up her own mind,” Dewey affirmed. “But you deserve to be happy too.”

 

Lena scoffed. After all that she’d been through, she wasn’t as sure about that as him. While she did think that she deserved at least one thing to herself, she wasn’t sure she merited happiness. After all, she’d been deceiving everyone for years. But the way Webby had put it made it sound noble instead of suffering needlessly.

 

Maybe it was noble and Lena couldn’t see it. She glanced over at Webby’s sleeping form and her heart clenched. She loved her so much. And it’d kill her to know she’d gone through all of that for nothing. But the important thing was whether Webby was happy.

 

Even if that felt like it’d suck in the long run.

 

\-----

 

Mrs. Beakley was awake and alert when Scrooge arrived. She could even speak, albeit very quietly. Calente discouraged it, which meant that Scrooge was reading her responses. Worse things had happened. He was just glad to see her recovering.

 

“Lena knows where Magica is holed up, but I can’t just ask her to venture out to find her,” Scrooge said. “It’d be a death sentence for the lass. But if we don’t figure something out, we’re going to spend entirely too much time looking for her when she already has plans for us.

 

“I could lure her out again, but that trick might only work once.”

 

He paced back and forth in her bedroom. He couldn’t ask Bentina to stand out there again and provide a target. He’d nearly lost her once. Losing her permanently was unthinkable.

 

“I could go with her,” Scrooge said, frowning. “Magica wouldn’t attack both of us, not if she wanted to ensure she’d remain on my good side.”

 

“You’re putting Lena in unnecessary danger,” Mrs. Beakley reprimanded via notebook.

 

“I don’t have a choice,” he huffed. “There’s no other way to find out her base of operations than to use Lena.”

 

He heard how that sounded and winced, feeling awful that things had come to this. However, like he’d told Beakley, he didn’t see an alternative. It would take far too long to search all the caverns west of the city and, in that time, Magica would have lost her patience and found a way to get inside McDragon Manor. Worse, she would find a way to get her vengeance on Webbigail and Lena, especially Lena for betraying her.

 

“I won’t put it that way to Lena,” he amended.

 

Mrs. Beakley raised her eyebrows. “Hasn’t the child gone through enough?”

 

“And this will be the last thing I ask her to do,” he said. “I swear.”

 

“Webby is going to want to accompany you,” Mrs. Beakley retorted. “And if you deny her, she’ll sneak along. I know my granddaughter.”

 

“She’s just a wee lass! She’s too young!” he objected.

 

“She’s a teenager,” Beakley rejoined. “Lena de Spell is her best friend and you’re leading her into danger. She’s trained enough to be able to hold her own, Mr. McDragon.”

 

“Be that as it may…” he clenched his fists. Lena was one thing--Lena was necessary. Webby? Webby could get hurt. Perhaps he was allowing his memories of Webby as a young child to cloud his current impression. Webby could be quite capable when she chose to be. It was just something she didn’t exhibit often because danger didn’t come to them; they went to danger.

 

“You’re not going to gainsay her if she wants to go, are you?” he asked.

 

She shook her head. “It’s her prerogative.”

 

“There’s no reason to bother them about this now,” he said. “I’ll inform them in the morning.”

 

“You should get some sleep too,” Beakley scolded, but he could tell it was gentler than her previous comments, despite reading it off a paper instead of hearing her speak. He knew her well enough to detect tone in her words, written or vocalized.

 

“I’ll sleep when I’m tired,” he scoffed. Of course, that could be a long time from now. Right now, he was fueled by guilt, outrage, and concern. It wasn’t an unfamiliar cocktail--he’d felt similarly when Della had gone missing. He’d had insomnia for years after her disappearance. It looked like this was going to be another one of those nights.

 

“You’ll sleep now and worry about it later.”

 

“Ah, don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself first,” he said, waving her off. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Her eyes narrowed.

 

“The same kind of ‘fine’ that Lena is?” she countered.

 

“Now you’re not playing fair!” he huffed. “That is an entirely different situation.”

 

Yet he couldn’t meet her eyes when he said that. They both knew the similarities were uncanny.

 

“Is it?” she shot back.

 

His stomach churned. Not only did he know Lena wasn’t faring well, he knew he was leading her into danger by asking her to assist him in locating Magica. He would be putting two children in danger for this plan to work. It seemed to him like he’d need more back-up than that. He could ask Donald to pitch in; Goldie wasn’t likely to want to help, not if there was nothing in it for her.

 

Four on two, including one who was a bird. Yes, that sounded even, especially when it came to Magica de Spell. He shrugged off the guilt from that--he didn’t have to be just, not when Magica was using a child as a pawn. Not when he was doing something similar to Lena…

 

“It’s not black and white,” he retorted and left without reading her response. He was angry, both because he knew she was right and because he felt remorse over it. He would make it up to Lena somehow. For now, he had logistics to plan and miles to go before he slept.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena agrees to help Scrooge, under the condition that Webby is left out of it. That doesn't go according to plan.
> 
> Magica suffers a huge setback and nearly kills Lena for it.

Lena had difficulty sleeping. She woke up, pushed away from Webby and Dewey, and wandered the manor. The house had ceased shaking hours ago, but Lena could still feel the reverberations. She could imagine her aunt's claws closing around her heart right before she ripped it out. Not only had she failed her, but she'd betrayed her and everything they'd been working toward. She'd given in to her feelings for Webby and abandoned her family. She was a terrible person.

Or was Aunt Magica the terrible person for putting her through all of this? She didn't know.

She found herself sitting in the living room and staring blankly at the TV. Though the remote was within her reach, she didn't touch it. Instead, she gaped, as if the TV was playing out her worst memories. Magica, enraged, threatening to throttle her and only telling her that she wouldn't because she needed her. Poe, her father, gradually pulling further and further away from her and Magica telling her repeatedly how this was her fault, how if she'd just grab the treasure and the elixir, none of this would be happening. That Lena's damn feelings for Webby were getting in the way and Webby would never care for her, not once she discovered Lena's true colors.

"Can't sleep, lass?" Scrooge called and Lena jerked, realizing she'd been dozing. She looked around guiltily, her heart in her throat.

"Scroogie, whatever it is can wait until morning," Goldie called. She appeared in the doorway wrapped only in a robe that left little to the imagination. Lena turned away, cheeks burning. Goldie O'Gilt was the city flirt and while Lena was far too young for her attention, that didn't mean Lena was oblivious to the effect that Goldie had on people.

"The sooner we find Magica, the better," Scrooge replied and Lena's heart clenched.

"What do you want with Magica?" Lena asked and winced when her voice trembled. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach.

"Magica's going to be asleep now," Goldie said, shaking her head. "I appreciate that you want to get a headstart on this-the sooner you get rid of Magica, the sooner we can go treasure hunting-but it's the dead of night. No one wants to go traipsing around in the dark after someone with black scales."

"You want my help finding her?" Lena asked and her heart thudded.

"I...I want you to come with me," he said. "And Webbigail too, I suppose, since she's not going to be content to stay here."

"You realize if I step foot outside of this manor, she'll totally kill me, right?" Lena said and her chest tightened. Panic surged through her and she realized that, not for the first time, she might be having an anxiety attack. When she'd had them before, she'd huddled in her room, rocked back and forth, and waited for it to be over. She didn't have that luxury right now.

"I won't let her hurt you," he said.

"How?" she gasped. "How do you propose to do that?"

"Far be it for me to interfere in something that has nothing to do with me, gold, or anything that normally interests me, but...you're scaring the poor child," Goldie said. "She's shaking, for heaven's sake, Scrooge."

"I'll find a spell to shield you," he promised.

"Did you miss the part where she'll totally kill me?" Lena demanded. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. Her tail was twitching madly and her next breath sounded like a sob. She was going to go out of her mind with terror.

"I won't let her harm you," he repeated and sat beside her. He hugged her and although she didn't resist, she also didn't show any signs of reciprocating.

"Calente can create a shield pendant for you to wear. She won't be able to get inside your mind or touch you with magic unless you take it off," he continued. Lena could barely hear him. Her blood was pounding in her head and she whimpered; she was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.

"As I said, Scrooge, you're scaring the shit out of her," Goldie said and sounded irritated. "You don't really need her to go after Magica, do you?"

"She's the only one who knows the location of Magica's cave," he pointed out.

"So make her draw you a map," Goldie snapped. "Honestly, you're just as bad as Magica."

"I am not!" he snapped back. Lena was whimpering, muttering over and over how she didn't want to go back. She wished she hadn't left Webby's room now. This was so much worse than her attempts at sleep.

"It would be better if she accompanied me," he argued. "Calente can protect her with a charm. And I can protect her too if push comes to shove. Magica won't attack her if I'm beside her."

Lena fell into herself. She was pretty sure Scrooge was asking her something, but as her mind was gripped by unyielding horror, she couldn't respond. This would be the last time and she hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Webby. Or Dewey, though she wasn't sure why the latter mattered. Even if Scrooge defeated Magica, Lena would have failed everyone.

She was a monster, wasn't she? That was what Magica had called her. She was a half-breed, a ne'er do well who had failed both her family and her best friend. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she was breathing shallowly, unable to catch her breath.

"Ground yourself," a male voice said, though not one she'd expected. Through watery eyes, she saw Donald standing in front of her. He pushed Scrooge aside and sat next to her.

"Look around you and find five things. Think about them. Don't think about anything else, just them," Donald advised.

Lena nodded, her throat tight, and, with difficulty, did what Donald instructed. She was still rocking back and forth and Scrooge scowled, displeased to have had his session interrupted. Goldie must have gone for Donald because it didn't look like Scrooge had budged in the last five minutes.

"Concentrate your breathing," he told her. "One, two. In, out."

With more effort, she managed to calm herself down. Her head was still spinning, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it had been. She looked up at him gratefully.

"I used to get panic attacks too," he told her. "PTSD. Sometimes you have to ride them out."

"Well, er, thank you, Donald," Scrooge said. "But we have other things to discuss."

"What was so bad that Lena had a panic attack?" Donald demanded and Lena was surprised to hear he was protective over her. Webby was the honorary fourth nephew. Who was Lena compared to that? Unless...unless she'd somehow already inserted herself into the family without realizing it. That was a clever trick if it was true.

"It's nothing important," Scrooge said, trying to play it off. "She's fine now."

Donald didn't look convinced, not that Lena blamed him. She found she'd been clutching Donald's shirt sleeve and grimaced, unable to extract her fingers. They'd curled up too tightly around it.

"Uh huh," Donald said, glaring at his uncle. "She doesn't look fine to me."

"She is," Scrooge insisted. "Aren't you, Lena?"

Lena had an uncomfortable flashback to her aunt reassuring others that she was perfectly well as Lena tried her best not to pass out. Her stomach cramped painfully and she groaned, doubling over. Her aunt had entertained other dragons in the hope they might be able to help her, though that hadn't panned out. Magica's frustration over their seeming unwillingness to help had led to some of the worst attacks Lena had endured. Bile burned her throat in the present and she whimpered; Donald wrapped his arms around her.

"Whatever you want her for, the answer is no," Donald snapped. "She's in no condition to do it."

Scrooge scowled. He looked like he wanted to argue further but something about Donald's face stopped him.

"I can do it…" Lena said in a weak voice. "I can bring you to Magica's lair. But you have to promise to protect me."

She wasn't sure what had changed her mind or even if she had. Perhaps she was just embracing her fate; if she was going to die, at least it would be her choice.

"Lena-" Donald said in a warning voice, but what he was warning her about, she didn't know.

"You have my word, lass," Scrooge said and shot Donald a look too. He rubbed Lena's back and she drew a deep, staggering breath.

"But Webby can't come," Lena said. "I'll lead you to the lair, but only on the condition that Webby isn't there."

When she died-not an if-she did not want Webby to witness it. She wanted to protect her best friend as best she could and that was the last and only thing she could shield her from.

"I'm not sure Webbigail is going to agree to that…" Scrooge said, frowning. "Or abide by it."

"Promise me or no deal," she pressed.

"I promise."

Lena shuddered. Panic still had her in its grip, but it was loosening its hold somewhat. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, but she could've been tired and imagining it. She wished she had a mental connection with someone other than Magica. Maybe then she could have reached out and reassured Webby before marching to her doom.

* * *

She had woken up feeling oddly bereft and went looking for Lena. She'd overheard their conversation and she knew there was no way they were leaving her behind. She'd sooner slice scales off her tail than let them lock her up in here. No, she had every intention of accompanying Lena and defending her. Lena had surrendered so much to be with her. It was time Webby returned the favor.

She cast a quick glance inside at Lena's miserable expression. Her heart ached seeing it. Lena thought she was heading toward her death. That couldn't be true. Webby wouldn't let it be true.

The thought of losing her was physically painful, worse than just witnessing Lena's moroseness. She didn't know if she'd survive Lena's death if her friend perished. Suppressing a whimper, she returned to her room before Lena realized she'd gone. The last thing she needed was for someone to find out she'd been eavesdropping.

* * *

Contrary to what Scrooge and Lena thought, Magica hadn't ceased her onslaught because she'd grown tired. She'd stopped because of shock. In the middle of casting a spell that ought to shake McDragon Manor on its foundation, Poe flew down to her, shook his head, and then collapsed. Magica cut off her attack and stared at her brother. A monster she might be, but anxiety had seized her. Her throat was tight when she poked his feathers. He didn't respond. His chest wasn't rising and falling.

"No…" she breathed. "No...please, no…"

Misery crashed upon her and she collapsed to the floor. She cradled Poe in her front feet and felt around for a little birdy heartbeat. There was nothing and he was growing stiff.

"No!" she screamed. No, she couldn't have been waiting on Lena all those years for nothing. She couldn't have expended all that power to bring Scrooge to his knees to lose Poe now. Never mind her trapped in her dragon form. She was at least alive. Poe was...he was…

She gave a hoarse sob. Pity the monsters. As best as she could, she curled around Poe's body. She had a magical sense of him, as she did of Lena (or normally did of Lena, but she didn't now thanks to Scrooge). That sense was snuffed out, leaving her bereft. There was nothing to cling to. She should have Bonded with Gladstone but she didn't trust herself enough to give herself to someone else.

She was alone, utterly alone. And it was Scrooge McDragon's fault. And Webbigail's. And Lena's. Permitting herself to give in to despair, she sobbed bitter tears. Her tail lashed against the cave walls. Poe was dead. He was dead and it was everyone else's fault but hers.

After what felt like an eternity, her sobs ebbed and she looked up. Hatred ravaged her. It wasn't enough to punish Lena for what she'd done. She'd tear her apart in front of Webbigail. She'd rend her piece by piece while Webby begged for mercy. And then, when she was done, she'd kill Webby in front of Scrooge. If Scrooge cared for her as much as he claimed to, then her death would devastate him.

She wouldn't be satisfied with that carnage, however. She'd crash his stupid ball if they even had it after she killed Webby, and rip his grand-nephews' heads off. And, as their heads rolled, she'd steal Scrooge's treasure, change herself back, and then, finally, finally, she'd grant Scrooge a mercy killing.

Well, maybe after killing Donald and Della too. Mustn't forget any loose ends. And it wasn't like Della could stop her-she laughed cruelly at the thought of the disabled dragon somehow shifting to defend her family.

She ought to start consolidating what little magic she had left. No, never mind that. She pushed her bulk out of the cave and, burying her brother and putting a stone as a cairn, she took off for Dragonburg. She wasn't going to wait for them to come to her. And if McDragon Manor was well-fortified, well...they had to leave sometime, didn't they? She could wait for them nearby and ambush them.

They'd killed Poe. They would pay for that. And she would make sure Lena would know that she was responsible for her father's death. That her dillydallying, her pathetic crush on Webbigail, had destroyed Poe. Webbigail would never reciprocate and even if she did, who cared? Lena was a blood traitor, forsaking her family for a stupid child. She deserved what she got.

As she prepared to take flight, she sensed Lena leaving the manor. Her magical feelings of her were strong and she could also sense protections about her, protections that hadn't yet been set in place. They'd left the manor without defending her first. Even if it was only for a few seconds, that was all the time Magica needed. She pounced, launching her most vicious mental attack on Lena yet.

((You killed your father,)) she told Lena and then, digging her mental claws into Lena's mind, ripped her apart.

* * *

Lena had been about to receive a necklace from Calente when the worst pain she'd ever experienced in her life swallowed her whole. She collapsed, bleeding from her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. She convulsed and only Cal sliding the necklace over her neck no matter how much she was seizing prevented her from having a grand mal seizure, possibly one that would have killed her. Lena curled into a ball on the doorway of McDuck Manor and knew, distantly, that she had soiled herself. The pain had been intense, unrelenting, and excruciating. It had felt like someone had cleaved her head in half with an ax.

Sobbing, she was vaguely aware of Webby screaming. She couldn't feel her body, couldn't tell whether Webby had reached for her or not. She'd bitten her tongue and blood flooded her mouth, competing with the blood rising from her other orifices from Magica's attack. She choked and Calente shifted her to a sitting position in time for her to vomit up blood.

Calente rubbed her back until, eventually, she returned to herself. Her gaze was unfocused and everything appeared as giant blobs. She was still crying, unable to stop, and shaking uncontrollably. The only reason Magica would have launched an attack like that would be if all hope was lost. And it was...if what Magica said was true. She'd delayed too long and her father had suffered.

"Lena…" Webby sobbed, clinging to her. She had wrapped her arms tightly about Lena and Cal was having trouble extracting her.

"Lass…" Scrooge said. He seemed at a loss for words. All Lena could taste was blood and her head pounded. Her chest was tight and darkness pressed at her. If it hadn't been for Cal's timely intervention, she knew without a doubt that Magica would have torn her mind apart. She would have been dead after what felt like an eternity of torture.

"She should be brought back into the house and treated," Calente said. "She's had a petit mal seizure. It shouldn't be that bad, compared to what Magica was aiming for, but she needs to be looked after."

"Magica wanted her dead, didn't she?" Webby said in a voice that Lena didn't recognize. It was hard and cold. Lena had never heard Webby shut down like that. It unnerved her. She had reluctantly released her enough so that the pressure eased on Lena's chest. She closed her eyes and spat up more blood. On the plus side, if there could be said to be such a thing, then Magica would have expelled the last of her power trying to kill Lena. She would be washed up.

Somehow, the thought didn't cheer her much. Calente pulled her, unresisting, into his arms and brought her back into the house. She trembled so badly that she feared she'd bite her tongue straight through. Webby was right behind Cal and asking her questions that she couldn't possibly answer.

"Lena!" Webby cried, grabbing her hand. Man, Webby was having quite a week, wasn't she? All she needed now was for someone to attack Dewey and she'd be all set. Lena tried to smile at it, but she coughed up blood instead. The pressure eased further on her chest until her coughs produced nothing, which was a relief.

Calente put her down on a soft, downy bed and the pressure returned, this time smothering darkness that sent her into sleep. Her last sensation was of Webby flinging herself at her.

* * *

This had been one shitty week. Webby waited by Lena's bedside in an eerie mirror of how she'd been with her grandmother. Dewey sat beside her and squeezed her hand. From the sounds of it, Magica had thrown everything she could at Lena. She was trying to be strong because she hated when other people saw her miserable and morose. However, there was a limit to how much she could take. She could still see Lena collapsing in agony and it sent chills through her.

Dewey hugged her and she felt guilty that she only had eyes for Lena right now. Lena was pale, breathing shallowly, and Cal said she needed to rest for at least a day. Scrooge had been furious and also feeling guilty, perhaps because it'd been his idea to send her outside of the manor in the first place. No one knew what had precipitated the attack-Lena was still insensible-but Webby didn't think Magica really needed a reason. She hated Lena.

Swallowing a sob, she stroked Lena's hair. Lena could have died. If Magica had had her druthers, she would have. She crawled onto the bed beside Lena, who had been cleaned up after her ordeal, and hugged her tightly. If Lena hadn't been in a magically and medically induced sleep, she would have been whimpering. Webby was sure of that.

"She'll pull through," Dewey said in a rough voice.

"I know," Webby said with false brightness. She leaned into Lena and whispered in her ear, "I love you. So much."

"You've made your choice, haven't you?" Dewey said and she jerked her head around in confusion.

"Wait, what? No, I haven't…"

"Oh," he said and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Good. I mean, this isn't good, but...argh. I'm screwing up left and right here."

He approached them and smoothed back Lena's hair. "If Calente hadn't been there…"

She knew. Her chest was tight with the knowledge. Lena had been one step away from death's door. It echoed through her thoughts and threatened to drive her insane. Choosing Dewey over Lena would have been one thing, but having Dewey and losing Lena would have been something else entirely. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from whimpering.

"Maybe we should let her have her rest," Webby said, wrenching herself away from Lena with extreme reluctance. "She won't even notice we're gone. Heh."

Feeling like her heart was breaking to leave Lena alone, she nonetheless headed for the door and waited for Dewey to follow her.

"You don't want to hold, like, a midnight vigil? You've gotta be pretty torn up about this."

"She'll be fine, like you said." Even repeating it made her heart lurch. Was this what it felt like to be Bonded to someone? To have your heart forcefully ejected from your body and trampled? Her lower lip quivered and she swallowed back pain. When Lena woke up, she was going to smother her in affection.

"Webby, don't do that thing you always do," Dewey said, stepping in front of her.

"I'm not doing anything," she said, injecting irritation into her voice in the hopes he'd get the hint.

"You're pretending everything is normal so that you don't upset me," he said and sighed. "You do this all the time when something big happens. You put everyone's needs ahead of your own and you suffer in silence."

"No, I don't," she said. "And shouldn't we be helping Huey with the guest list? And whatever else is going on? He and Louie are supposed to be coming up with the budget and making sure everything's in order before the ball."

She realized too late that her voice was higher than normal and the strain was obvious in how rigidly she held herself.

"Webby, breathe," Dewey said. "If you want to go back in there, you can. I'm not going to hold it against you or judge you for it. I know how much you care about her."

"She could have killed her…" Webby said and bit her lower lip harder because she could feel the tears pricking her eyes. "And there was nothing I could have done to stop it. What good is being a trained assassin when you can't protect the people you care about?"

"It's okay," he soothed.

"No, it isn't!" she snapped, whirling on him. "You're doing that thing where you're condescending to me because you think it'll make me feel better. I'm not a child, Dewford."

"Well, excuse me, Webbigail," he huffed. "Since we're using full names and everything."

She grimaced. Every step further away from Lena's door hurt more and more. And Dewey was being a jackass.

"Just leave me alone," she snapped. "And go plan the music for the party. That's what you were getting at anyway, wasn't it? I'll be fine."

Dewey sighed. He seemed to realize there was no safe way to approach an angry woman. With that in mind, he ducked his head and mumbled something about getting her later. Then he dashed off before she threw something at him. Men. She touched her lips and remembered him kissing her. Maybe she was doing that thing where she buried her feelings for the good of everyone else. So what if she was?

Her lower lip quivered harder and she couldn't help herself this time. A hoarse sob escaped and she rushed back to Lena's room to close the door so that she could cry in peace. She didn't lock it, however, and a few minutes later, Dewey came back in.

"Sssh, Webby…" he soothed. "I'm sorry if I was acting like a jerk. Sssh...it's okay."

He hugged her tightly and although she remained vexed with him, she allowed him to hold her. She was so worried about Lena and her grandmother and Magica's revenge and everything going on that she couldn't hold it back any longer. Dewey stroked her hair and murmured nonsensical things to her in a vain attempt to get her to calm down.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "Hey...wanna go talk to the guys about the party?"

Webby shook her head and sighed, resting her chin against Dewey's shoulder. She could almost hear him thinking "women" in the same manner that she'd thought "men" earlier. Her lips quirked.

"Webby?"

Lena's voice was hoarse and jarring. Webby sniffled, swiping at her eyes, and moved back to the chair beside the bed.

"You shouldn't be awake," Webby chastised.

"She isn't," Dewey said, joining her. "She's talking in her sleep. She must be worried about you."

That made one of them. Or perhaps two, if she counted Dewey. Webby was so worried about Lena and her grandmother that she was beside herself with it.

"Hey, well, things could be worse, right?" he said. She wanted to punch him in the face for that comment. How could things have been worse? Why did he have to think about that right this instant when she was crying and Lena wanted her in her dreams?

She vowed she'd never leave Lena again and they'd definitely never let her leave the manor without protection. The next time Magica struck, if there was a next time, the consequences could be dire.

* * *

Sleeping off the mental, magical, and physical strain of the last few hours, Magica's dreams were full of portents. She awoke more exhausted than she'd been before slumbering and she had a bad taste in her mouth. In a distant part of her mind, she was aware she was destroying the last vestige of Poe by attacking her niece. She didn't care. Lena had killed Poe. Lena's selfishness and desire for something "better" had destroyed her father.

Of course, Lena wouldn't venture outside the manor again. Even if she did, Magica had nothing left to hurt her with besides her physical form. It was a depressing thought. She'd have to tear Lena apart with her bare hands.

And that assumed that Scrooge wouldn't interfere. All of this, all of this planning and this manipulation, had been for naught. She swallowed back a sob. She wished she'd Bonded with Gladstone. She wished she hadn't sequestered herself here. And she wished to everything above and below that she'd murdered Lena and taken the damn elixir herself.

She'd be easy pickings for Scrooge if he showed up with Webby and Lena. The best-laid plans of mice and men…

Let him come, then. Even if there was no point in transforming Poe back, she'd still get her chance to tear Lena's head off for her treachery. The thought pleased her, but it didn't ease the hole in her heart. The Poe-shaped hole. She sighed, resting her head on the ground between her forelegs, and listened to the rain pour outside.

She would wait for Scrooge. And then she would give him the most desperate fight of a lifetime.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena derives some comfort from Dewey and Webby. And Magica shows up to join the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to update this...I haven't written anything for this for next week.

Magica’s words echoed in her mind. Lena had murdered her father. She had let too much time lapse; her father had lived far beyond that of a normal bird and now, when she could have saved him, she’d turned traitor for Webby’s sake. Her throat was tight. She didn’t want to wake up. She didn’t want to face the reality of what she’d done. Webby was holding her and crying, which incited guilt, but not enough to rouse her completely.

  


Magica would have every right to kill her now. Her being trapped in dragon form was one thing. Lena permitting her father’s death was another thing entirely. Lena was a bad niece and a bad daughter. She was an awful person. A choked gasp escaped her and she felt Webby’s regard more keenly.

  


“Lena?” Webby murmured. “Are you awake?”

  


Another choked gasp later and Lena knew the gig was up. She opened her eyes and Webby’s eyes, which had been tear-filled, spilled over. From what she could distinguish, she was lying on a plush four-poster bed, far posher than anything she’d ever been on before, and she remained in McDragon Manor with Cal’s necklace about her neck. It was alongside Magica’s amulet, which Lena fingered.

  


“Are you okay?” Webby pressed. “You...Cal said you would’ve had a grand mal seizure if he hadn’t intervened.”

  


“I would have deserved it,” Lena said flatly, rolling away from Webby’s embrace. Webby was undeterred and followed her across the bed. Lena was too weak to get up and walk away and although she permitted the younger girl to hug her, she felt wretched for deriving comfort from it. She wanted to kiss her again and go back to the way things had been a few hours before. Or however many hours it had been since Lena had no idea how long she’d been out.

  


“No, you wouldn’t have,” she replied fiercely. “Why would you think that? I know Magica has it out for you, but no one deserves--”

  


“My father died,” Lena said in that same toneless voice. “He died because I didn’t steal the elixir in time. Because I spent all my time being with you and the others and trying to have some semblance of a normal life. Because I didn’t want to risk hurting you by doing what Magica wanted.”

  


For a long moment, the blonde girl fell silent.

  


“...oh.”

  


“Magica wanted me dead; an eye for an eye. I should have died instead of him. It was my failure. My fault.”

  


“You couldn’t have known,” Webby countered. “You had no way of knowing when his time was. This isn’t your fault.”

  


Webby turned Lena’s face around and kissed her softly. And damn her, but she kissed her back, unable to resist her for too long. This was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she rolled over and wrapped her arms about her. She tasted tears and realized she was crying. So much for striving to remain unemotional.

  


When they broke apart, Lena was sobbing so hard she couldn’t see straight. She clung to the younger girl and fisted her hands in Webby’s dress. Webby stroked her hair, particularly the pink streak, and for once in her life, Lena’s tail was still, not whipping around in agitation. It was tucked between her legs like a dog that knows it has done something bad.

  


“What happened to your father isn’t your fault,” Webby said softly. “You didn’t want to do Magica’s bidding because she’s an evil bitch. Maybe it wasn’t fair that he was transformed into a bird and she into a dragon, but that’s not your fault either. Magica caused them both to change shape. It had nothing to do with you. Sssh, Lena. Sssh. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

  


Lena said nothing. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

  


“When you were lying there, so still, I thought you could die. I thought that even though you had a petit mal seizure, that you might die anyway. Or have brain damage. You were bleeding pretty badly. It scared the shit out of me. I thought I was going to lose you.

  


“And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you any more than you could bear the thought of losing me.”

  


That didn’t change the reality, that Lena had let this happen. Webby nuzzled her and hugged her until it felt like all of Lena’s broken pieces were, if not reassembled, at least collected en masse. She loved her so much. And that love had cost her Poe.

  


“How long was he a bird for? Fifteen years, right?”

  


Lena nodded slowly.

  


“You didn’t really get a chance to know him, did you?”

  


She shook her head.

  


“So you couldn’t have missed him if you didn’t know him, right?” she pressed and Lena nodded again, albeit reluctantly.

  


Lena bit back a sigh. Webby didn’t get it. Then again, she’d never known her parents, from what Lena could glean. She never spoke about them. And she’d been more consumed with Della’s mystery than her parents’ disappearance, so perhaps she already knew what had happened to them and didn’t want to inquire further.

  


“That’s not the point, Webs,” Lena said, shaking her head. “The point is that I had a responsibility to my family and I blew it.”

  


“But you didn’t feel beholden to them because they never gave you a reason to,” Webby argued.

  


“It’s not that,” Lena said. “It was stupid. I wanted to be with you and everyone else because you didn’t treat me like crap like Aunt Magica does. But I put myself first and now my dad’s dead. Because of me.”

  


“You’re allowed to put yourself first once in a while, you know,” she murmured and nuzzled her again. Warmth blossomed in Lena’s chest and she hated herself for pulling Webby closer. She hated herself, even more, when she kissed her again and Webby enthusiastically kissed her back. This had to be the last time. If she were ever going to redeem herself...or was it too late for that?

  


Webby entangled her legs with Lena’s and Lena sighed, cupping the back of Webby’s head. She was allowed to be selfish. She was allowed to care about her needs first. That went against the grain of everything Magica had told her over the years. Lena was supposed to sacrifice herself for her family. She was supposed to be the good daughter, the good niece, no matter what.

  


She wanted to melt into Webby until there was nothing left of her. Or maybe just link with her until they were a single entity, Weblena. When Webby’s tongue darted at her lips, Lena opened her mouth and kissed her deeper, more fiercely than before. She was being selfish...she shouldn’t...she couldn’t...but...why not? The only person left to save was Magica and she’d rather die than help her.

  


Besides, Magica had a corporeal form. If she wanted her freedom from being a dragon so badly, why couldn’t she take it herself?

  


Webby’s chest was pressed up against hers and Lena could feel the warmth of her body through her clothes. She sighed, deciding to focus on nothing but Webby. Webby’s smell, her soft skin, and her goodness. She was the light to Lena’s darkness.

  


There was something about Dewey she was supposed to remember, but she couldn’t bring herself to care just yet. Webby scooted closer, although there was nowhere for her to go but to press against Lena tighter.

  


When they finally broke off, Lena gasping, she’d forgotten what she was upset about. Webby intertwined their fingers and kissed her neck. She didn’t understand what drew Webby to her. She wasn’t anything special. If anything, she was a shell of a person. She was…

  


Now that they had regained their breath, Webby kissed her again, as if by kissing her, she could remove all the doubt and fear that Lena had. What was worse was that it was working. When she kissed her, she started to forget everything that was troubling her. She was surrounded by everything Webby and she wanted more, more, more.

  


There was a knock at the door and they both startled, springing away from each other. Lena’s heart raced.

  


“Uh, hey,” Dewey said, poking his head into the room. “I wanted to check in on you guys.”

  


Lena blushed scarlet. If he’d just barged in, he would have found them making out. That was the thing she was supposed to remember. That Dewey also had feelings for Webby and she’d been hogging her. Shit. But Webby had kissed her first...that had to count for something.

  


If she was supposed to be fair, then she should let Dewey court Webby. After all, he’d been there first, he hadn’t had a secret agenda, and he loved her too. But Webby liked her too. Then there was the idea that they could both share Webby and Lena didn’t know how she felt about that either.

  


“So, are you okay?” he asked Lena.

  


“I’m better,” she said, pushing herself to a sitting position on the bed.

  


“Did I miss something?” Dewey asked, looking from one girl to another. Webby just offered him a beatific smile and Dewey melted. Lena smiled. If Webby had been looking at her that way, she would’ve melted too.

  


“Sloppy makeouts,” Webby ventured, shrugging. “If you want in, you can join us.”

  


“Then you did make up your mind!” Dewey exclaimed and this time, Webby flushed.

  


“No...I still like you both,” she protested. “But...my feelings for Lena are more intense. Maybe ‘cuz she almost died.”

  


“Should have died,” Lena muttered and Dewey and Webby threw her a sharp look.

  


“Magica told me that my father died,” Lena explained to Dewey, whose expression had changed to bafflement. “And he died because I didn’t steal the elixir in time. Birds only live for so long…”

  


Dewey rushed over to her and glanced quickly at Webby. They seemed to share a silent communication, probably along the lines of “you did tell her that this wasn’t her fault, right?” “of course I did!”

  


“It’s not your fault,” Dewey said. He sat beside her. “You didn’t ask for any of this.”

  


Lena glanced shyly at Webby. “Well, actually…”

  


She had asked the powers that be repeatedly for Webby. She just hadn’t thought that her wishes would be respected or even acknowledged. Webby sat up too and she rested her head against Lena’s. Lena’s heart ached thinking of how much she loved her.

  


“That doesn’t count,” he scoffed, noticing Lena’s glance at Webby. “I mean, you didn’t ask for your father to be a bird or your aunt to be...Magica.”

  


“You can call her a bitch,” Lena said, shrugging. “I do all the time in my head.”

  


When Magica wasn’t sharing her thoughts, that was. Lena shivered, grateful that she didn’t have that burden. She fingered Cal’s necklace this time, a pendant in the shape of a dragon. She hadn’t had time to study it earlier and now that she had, she saw that the dragon bore the McDragon coat of arms. Something in her broke and opened the floodgates again.

  


Scrooge did care about her. He wouldn’t have given her this if he didn’t. Scrooge cared about her and so did Dewey and Webby. She was wanted. She was loved. Tears pricked her eyes and she reached out to hug both of them. They hugged her back.

  


She still felt horribly guilty for what had befallen her father. And she knew Magica was out there waiting and ready to strike. But she wanted this moment, for what it was worth. She wanted Dewey and Webby hugging her and feeling like she was safe.

  


So, even though it was selfish, even though it meant she’d betrayed her father’s memory, she took it. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it, for whatever it was worth. To her, it was worth everything.

  


\-----

  


He still needed to lure Magica to them or go to her, but he couldn’t ask for Lena’s assistance. For God’s sake, the lass had nearly died just now. He paced the floor of his office and tried to think of another way to find Magica. Another boom shook the manor, which was odd because he thought Magica had expended all of her energy attacking Lena before.

  


He needn’t have worried about tracking Magica down to her lair. She was here, right now, outside his window. And she looked pissed as all hell.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby, Magica, and Scrooge get into it and Lena has a sort of talk with Mrs. Beakley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to update twice this week. :P Lucky you guys. Please leave me some love?

Magica snarled and flung herself at the manor’s walls. She couldn’t touch them due to the magical protection, but something within him reared back and he darted outside, shifting into his dragon form too. Mrs. Beakley wasn’t there to reprimand him and preach caution and neither was Duckworth, who was a ghost anyway and had no ability to compel his master to stay put for once in his life. Besides, this had been brewing for years now.  
  
Scrooge exited the manor already partially in his dragon form and then, once he was free from the magical barriers, he threw himself at Magica. She growled, trying to bite his neck, but that wouldn’t work twice. After seeing what she’d done to Mrs. Beakley, he had no intention of letting her off that easily.  
  
She clawed at him and he could sense that her strength was wavering. However, she was more desperate than him and that counted for a great deal. They separated, assessing each other, and he heard a growl behind him. It startled him enough that Magica gained the upper hand, bowling him over and clawing at his stomach. His scales repelled her.  
  
“For heaven’s sake,” Goldie snapped, still in her humanoid form. She had partially shifted, however, and her eyes flashed draconic gold. Her tail, likewise aureate, whipped behind her. He remembered that they had intended to be Bonded once, but that had never worked out, perhaps because it meant Goldie would have to stop attempting to kill him once in a while. It sure made things interesting in the bedroom.  
  
“I’m attacking you and you’re paying attention to  _her_?” Magica snapped. “I’m offended.”  
  
Scrooge wriggled away and smirked. “What can I say? She holds my attention.”  
  
“Change me back,” Magica snapped. “Your dallying cost me Poe. That’s on your head and Lena’s.”  
  
Scrooge darkened, Goldie temporarily forgotten. Magica bringing up Lena was one of the few things that could focus his mind--the thought of anyone harming someone he considered part of his family was unacceptable. And with the boys and Webby so enamored of Lena, she was by extension part of the McDuck clan.  
  
“What you did to that lass was atrocious,” he snapped. “You nearly murdered her.”  
  
“I meant to,” Magica said with a cruel smile. “Or at least render her an idiot. I assume my plan didn’t work. Or did it? Was Webby devastated? After all, Lena betrayed her family for that little brat.”  
  
Scrooge considered telling her the truth and then decided perhaps being overconfident might lead Magica to make a mistake. She was mostly blustering at this point and he could feel her fatigue. Goldie approached, shifting fully into a dragon and standing beside him. His heart soared but he ignored her. If she was going to be helpful, so be it. If not, then she would be a distraction he didn’t need.  
  
“What do you think?” he countered.  
  
Magica’s cruel smile spread. “I gave her a seizure. She deserved it.”  
  
“No one deserves it!” Scrooge snarled and they circled each other. Her tail lashed the ground and stirred up dust. Goldie was standing outside the circle but watching Magica’s every move.  
  
Magica snorted. “You’re such a little lightsider. You’d never understand the finer points of revenge. Give me the elixir, Scroogie, and I promise I won’t wring your precious Webbigail’s neck for tricking Lena into prizing her over her  _real_  family.”  
  
“With a promise like that, why should I let you within five hundred feet of my family?” he retorted.  
  
“Lena isn’t your family,” Magica scoffed. Her tail whipped out at him and Scrooge stepped on it. She squawked in indignation and lunged for him. Goldie was there first and swiped at her with her powerful right foreleg. It would’ve been the equivalent of a slap in humanoid form, but this was far stronger, enough to possibly snap Magica’s neck. Scrooge was surprised; Goldie was almost never violent. She could scheme, she could steal, and she could backstab, but having a temper? Unlike her. She was usually pretty cool under pressure.  
  
Or perhaps he’d misjudged her intent. It was possible Goldie had approached this situation the same way she approached everything and decided it was in her best interest to fend Magica off. Perhaps she thought the sooner she disposed of her, the sooner Scrooge and Goldie could leave Dragonburg and go about their treasure hunting.  
  
“I saw the state you left that girl in,” Goldie said, disdain coloring her tone. “Stealing from Scrooge is one thing. Scheming against him and manipulating him is something else. And maybe backstabbing him once in a while…”  
  
“Goldie, whose side are you on?” Scrooge objected.  
  
“Oh, my own,” she said. “I’m always on my own side.”  
  
Scrooge wanted to bang his head against a wall. Was it possible for his on and off again flame to stop making things worse? Or was she predisposed toward complicating matters? Argh. He couldn’t stand this.  
  
“Ah, she approaches…” Magica breathed.  
  
Had Scrooge thought that Goldie’s appearance had complicated things? He was wrong. He felt like someone had squeezed his heart in his chest and then gripped his lungs for good measure. For a few seconds, he stared, dumbfounded.  
  
“Webbigail…” Magica breathed. “Finally.”  
  
Webby was smaller than they were in her dragon form since she wasn’t fully grown. She had ruby scales that glittered under the light and her underbelly was pink quartz. It had been so long since Scrooge had seen her in dragon form that he’d nearly forgotten what she looked like. He was positive he’d never seen Lena in dragon form...if she even had one. She might’ve been trapped in between.  
  
“You shouldn’t be here, lass,” he reprimanded.  
  
“No, I should,” Webby said. “I absolutely should be.”  
  
“I agree,” Magica said. “You were so determined to befriend dumb little Lena. So determined to win her over to your side. You’re the reason Lena went astray. She was supposed to manipulate you, not fall for you.”  
  
Magica’s nostrils flared. “Lena could never be your friend. She was always my agent. But you managed to convince her to abandon her family. You convinced her to let Poe die.”  
  
Her claws dug into the earth and churned it. To Scrooge’s shock, Magica’s voice trembled. “You let my brother die.”  
  
Was it possible that Magica had cared for her brother after all? If that was the case, then why did she disdain Lena? Wasn’t Lena part of Poe?  
  
“I had no idea that was going on,” Webby said and then advanced on her. She breathed out fire and Magica laughed, countering with a blaze that would have incinerated Webby if she’d lingered in that spot. Though her training had mostly been in humanoid form, Mrs. Beakley would never have been so neglectful as to forget teaching her how to fight as a dragon. Webby launched herself into the sky and then dive bombed Magica.  
  
Magica saw her coming and Webby hastily changed her trajectory, skimming over her and then locking onto her horns. Magica snarled, trying to shake off the young girl, and Webby released one of the horns. Scrooge moved to intervene--Magica was his enemy, not Webby’s--and Webby’s claws flashed out. Perhaps she’d intended to temporarily incapacitate Magica or perhaps she meant to pay her back for nearly murdering her grandmother, but in either case, Webby froze after her attack. Magica roared, her screams pain-filled as blood poured down her face. Webby had punctured her right eye.  
  
“Uncle Scrooge…?” Webby said uncertainly. Scrooge stepped forward and assessed his enemy. Webby was covered in Magica’s blood and shuddered before launching herself at Magica again. Magica was ready for her, but her depth perception was off. She struck out with both forelegs, but only one connected. It slashed across Webby’s face and gouged a deep gash from one side diagonally down to the other.  
  
Webby reeled and then latched onto her, attempting to worry at Magica’s neck as Magica had done to Mrs. Beakley. Magica flung her off and Webby landed on her back. Dragons on their backs were helpless and it required a good five minutes to roll back and fix themselves. During that time period, dragons were vulnerable to any sort of attack. Magica threw herself at Webby’s exposed underbelly and Scrooge headed her off, knocking her away from Webby. His attack didn’t completely clear Magica’s path from Webby and Magica’s tail, filled with spikes, smashed into Webby’s face. Webby bit down hard, despite the spikes piercing the inside of her mouth, and wrenched the bottom half of her tail off. Bleeding from her face and her tail now, Magica panted, backing up.  
  
Webby spat out blood and Scrooge wondered how angry her grandmother would be at him for letting Webby get hurt.  
  
“Lena…” Magica said, sniffing the air like a hound scenting its prey. She glanced toward a window and sure enough, the curtains moved. He couldn’t tell whether it was Lena, but he had a keen intuition that it was. However, Magica’s distraction was enough for Scrooge to cause the earth to shake beneath Magica and collapse, putting her in a pit and knocking her onto her back as Webby was.  
  
Yes, he had magic, but he preferred not to use it. His was of the earth variety, which was part of how he found gems so readily. He had an affinity for minerals. Magica knew this because she snarled and he considered letting her sink further and burying her underground. But, no, burying her alive was malicious and he was supposed to be the good guy here. Plus...Webby and Goldie were here. Goldie probably wouldn’t object, but Webby would. Or would she?  
  
There was a gleam in Webby’s eyes that he hadn’t seen before. It was bordering on homicidal.  
  
“You tried to take my granny away from me,” Webby snapped, spitting out more blood. It was acidic and burned the grass and eroded the soil.  
  
“You tried to take Lena away from me,” she continued, rising with difficulty to her feet. Dragons’ center of gravity was their midsection and that was part of why it was so difficult to roll over once put on their backs.  
  
Magica thrashed and Scrooge conjured chains of stone to hold her in place.  
  
“A life for a life, Scroogie,” Magica cried. “I lost Poe. You should lose someone too. Maybe then you’d know what it’s like to actually lose your family member, instead of misplacing her.”  
  
Scrooge opened his mouth to retort and then decided it wasn’t worth it. He glowered at Magica instead. She was trying to get him to lose his focus and release her. However, he wasn’t making that mistake again. He shouldn’t have let her go in the first place. That had led to far too much heartbreak and pain. It had damn nearly killed poor Lena.  
  
“We’ll have a trial,” Scrooge decided. At Goldie’s surprised look, he added, “It’s part of our system of justice, Goldie.”  
  
“Justice?” she scoffed. “She tried to murder a child, she wanted to kill your bodyguard’s daughter, and she’s probably been plotting to kill your whole family. I don’t see the point in holding a trial. She’s guilty. Besides, she’s in the way.”  
  
“Well, thank you very much,” Magica snapped at her. She struggled, but the bonds held firm. “I know where I stand with you.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t care what happens to you,” Goldie replied. “You mean less than nothing to me. I just know that even I wouldn’t stoop to murdering a child. Stealing from them, well, it depends on whether they had anything good. But murder, no.”  
  
Magica snarled, having nothing to add to this. Scrooge considered again burying Magica, albeit with a shallow layer of dirt that would permit her to breathe.  
  
Webby spat out more blood and he caught a glimpse of her ravaged mouth. It was amazing she’d been able to speak with that much blood coating her teeth. It looked like the whole upper roof of her mouth was shredded.  
  
“Webbigail!” he said and she stopped, having been caught in mid-creep toward Magica’s pit. “You need to be healed.”  
  
Webby spat out an alarming amount of blood and he repeated himself. She looked reluctant to leave Magica to him but he was genuinely worried she might have permanently injured herself. If she didn’t see a healer soon, it would be permanent.  
  
“Webbigail, go!” he commanded. She wavered and he saw hatred suffuse her features. She wanted to make Magica pay for what she’d done to those she loved. However, Magica was already bleeding from her tail stump and whimpering in pain from her missing eye. She was covered in blood.  
  
“Yes, Uncle Scrooge,” Webby said after a minute and lurched to her feet. She trudged toward the house and blood dripped down her face. Scrooge’s heart clenched. He didn’t want her permanently disfigured from this either.  
  
Scrooge glanced over the edge of the pit and toward Magica. Goldie intertwined her tail with Scrooge’s.  
  
“You’ll stand trial,” Scrooge repeated and Magica huffed. She’d stopped fighting, though she glared hatefully at Scrooge. Scrooge reciprocated.  
  
“I hope you have someone to serve as a character witness for you,” he continued. “Because I cannae think of anyone here who would possibly speak in your defense.”  
  
“Gladstone…” Magica whimpered. Her eyes were wild and pain-filled. “Get...Gladstone…”  
  
“We’ll see,” he said.  
  
“Gladstone!” she snapped but beneath her anger was fear. She feared to lose Gladstone as she had Poe. However, she had no one to blame but herself for that. If she had asked Lena to ask Scrooge for a favor, he would have done so for Poe. Not so much for Magica, but Poe wasn’t as bad as his sister. Or hadn’t been, rather. It’d been his own misfortune that he’d been stuck in that guise.  
  
“We’ll see,” he repeated. “Let’s go, Goldie. I have to convene everyone.”  
  
He sighed. “Including Glomgold.”  
  
That was not a conversation he was looking forward to. He glanced back down at Magica. Why had she challenged him and then let herself be vanquished so easily? Or was she that weak from attacking the manor and then challenging them? True, she was losing blood in two places. Perhaps after Cal was done seeing to Webby, he could create a tourniquet for Magica.  
  
Their gazes met.  
  
“Scrooge, please,” Magica whispered. In her dragon form, she couldn’t cry, though she could keen. As he and Goldie left Magica to her own devices, he heard Magica keening to the sky. He hated it, but he pitied her. Just a little.  
  


* * *

  
  
Webby staggered into the house and Lena stared, aghast. On the one hand, she was shocked Magica hadn’t killed her, but on the other...oh...Webby had shifted into human form and her wounds were grievous. Magica had dug deep furrows into her face and she kept coughing up blood. Lena bolted toward her.  
  
This was her fault. She’d done this, just like she’d killed Poe. Lena would never forgive herself. She should leave...she was cancer on everything she touched. And even the things she’d barely brushed against.  
  
“Lena…” Webby gasped and blood dribbled over her lips. Lena was stricken and then she bolted, rushing for Cal. The healer was in Mrs. Beakley’s room and by the time Webby joined them, Cal had realized what was going on and ushered her out. Not, unfortunately, before Mrs. Beakley caught a glimpse of her granddaughter.  
  
Alarmed, she tried to rise from her bed and go after Webby.  
  
“Restrain her,” Cal whispered to Lena.  
  
Lena gaped at him. How? How was she supposed to restrain a trained assassin? Did he have any ideas? Because she was running on empty right now. She didn’t even know how she’d dragged herself out of bed. Her legs quivered and rather than keeping Mrs. Beakley from lurching after Webby, she collapsed onto the floor.  
  
Yeah, all right, leaving her room had been a bad idea. But she’d had to check on Webby. That had imbued her with reserves that she had promptly expended. Mrs. Beakley stared, alarmed, at Lena on her floor. Maybe that had been enough to distract her from pursuing Webby. Lena doubted it, mostly because she doubted her ability to influence anyone. She didn’t understand why Webby prized her so highly when she didn’t see that she had any redeeming qualities. Then again, Webby was unfathomable sometimes.  
  
Lena lifted her head weakly and saw Mrs. Beakley writing on a dry-erase board.  
  
“Lena?” she asked and although it was her name on a board, she imagined she could hear the concern in it.  
  
“Hey,” Lena said casually. “What’s up, Abbey Road?”  
  
Mrs. Beakley scowled and erased her name to, no doubt, inquire as to what had befallen her and Webby. Lena groaned, eyelids growing heavy. She had news for the older dragon. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain conscious. However, if she succumbed to her exhaustion, that meant that Mrs. Beakley might pursue Webby. She didn’t want that to happen. Webby would be even more distraught to see her grandmother hurting herself to check on her.  
  
“Webby’s okay,” Lena lied and Mrs. Beakley gave her a look that said, quite plainly,  _“Just how stupid do you think I am?”_  
  
“Okay, fine, she took on Aunt Magica,” Lena said and shivered uncontrollably. “And it’s my fault.”  
  
Mrs. Beakley softened and patted the bed. Lena smiled weakly. It was a nice gesture and she appreciated it and all, but she didn’t think she was capable of pushing herself off the floor and getting on the bed right about now. Her legs wouldn’t support her weight.  
  
“It is not,” Mrs. Beakley replied. Her eyes narrowed. “Webbigail is very headstrong.”  
  
“Yeah, wonder where she gets that from,” Lena said sardonically.  
  
Mrs. Beakley scoffed and Lena smirked.  
  
“Just saying,” Lena said. Her head grew too heavy to keep up and she collapsed completely to the floor. Exhaustion tugged at her and threatened to shove her under. But she didn’t want to pass out yet. Not yet...she didn’t want to leave Mrs. Beakley in the lurch. It was the least she could for bringing this upon them.  
  
Mrs. Beakley, who had no business being out of bed, nonetheless scooped Lena up beside her. She was weak too and it showed by how she crashed against the pillows. But she’d picked her up anyway. She wanted her nearby. Lena was touched.  
  
Their eyes met and Lena knew that Mrs. Beakley was fighting the urge to fall asleep too.  
  
“After you,” Lena murmured. Nonetheless, she closed her eyes. As she fell asleep, she felt Mrs. Beakley stroke her hair. Lena smiled softly. It must be nice to have someone who loved you like that…


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bentina Beakley has a one way conversation with Magica, Webby risks further injury trying to prevent Lena from doing something stupid, and Gladstone comes with an offer for Magica.

If Mrs. Beakley hadn't wanted Magica dead before, after hearing of Magica's attacks on her granddaughter and Lena, she certainly did now. She still couldn't speak and two days had passed since the sorceress had attacked her. She could, however, navigate the manor fine. Cal had bandaged Webby's face and since Lena had gotten some rest, they were both ambulatory, although Lena seemed a shadow of herself. She seemed to have taken her father's death very hard, as well as Webby's attack. As far as Mrs. Beakley knew, Webby's mouth had healed inside, though Webby had been cautioned against speaking too much until it had fully healed. Just in case she opened anything up.

Scrooge was assembling the members of the oligarchy to discuss Magica. Again. She didn't see why they hadn't dealt with her in the first place, rather than waiting until she'd nearly killed a child and maimed another one. But it wasn't her place to say. "Loosen up, 22," would've been her admonition if she'd complained. If she'd been able to speak to do so, that was.

They had postponed the ball, seeing as one of the hosts was temporarily incapacitated. Complaints had come in, but all Scrooge had needed to do was display Magica's mutilated form and the person usually shut up. Though Cal had cauterized the wounds, he hadn't healed her. Then again, there was no replacing a missing eyeball. He could have regrown Magica's tail, she supposed, if he'd been disposed toward it. He wasn't. However, they had shifted her back to her humanoid form, which made it easier to restrain her. The irony that she had wanted that form back and now had it, albeit without Poe, was not lost on any of them.

At present, Magica was restrained in one of the dungeons on the other side of the manor from Scrooge's hoard. No one wanted to chance Magica figuring out an escape route and then procuring the artifact that would restore her powers. Then again, considering how tight the restraints were, Bentina very much doubted she'd accomplish that. Mrs. Beakley had personally seen to it that Magica could only hobble around and only that from her bed to the toilet and back. The restraints were tight enough to hurt, but not brittle enough to break, even if Magica had possessed her usual strength.

Mrs. Beakley watched Magica on her cot. While part of her wished to quiz the other dragon at length, the rest of her just wanted to watch her suffer. That Magica had attacked Webby with the goal of murdering her incensed Bentina. (She was conflicted, however, on the subject of Lena. She understood that Lena had done none of this on her own, that she'd been pushed by Magica, but Webby wouldn't have been a target if Lena hadn't been present).

"Do you mind?" Magica snapped. "I'm trying to sulk in peace."

Incapable of responding verbally and unwilling to condescend to use a dry erase board to converse with her, Bentina glared back.

"Oh, that's right, your throat," Magica said and laughed. "I'd forgotten. How do you like your precious granddaughter's new look? I was going for her eyes, but I missed."

Her expression darkened. "Though her aim was spot on."

Perhaps this had been a mistake. Magica was desperate for the company-other than the jailers bringing her food, she hadn't had company since the fight. At least, not as far as Bentina knew, not unless Scrooge had broken his word and visited Magica. He had promised not to see her until the trial, although Scrooge could be foolhardy like that.

"Come now, you can't have shown up here and expected me to ignore you," Magica said. "There must be something you want from me or you wouldn't be here."

Bentina scowled. In her experience, the best way to get someone to start talking and divulge sensitive information was to stay quiet long enough for the other person to grow uncomfortable and speak to fill the void. In a way, her incapacitation was an advantage, because it meant even if she'd been tempted to respond to Magica's taunts, she couldn't dignify her with a response. Magica's eye flashed and she attempted to see Bentina, but the assassin had hidden in the shadows and the dim lighting in the dungeon and Magica's inability to move freely inhibited her propensity to see beyond her cell.

"If you're waiting for an apology, you're going to have an awfully long time to wait, 22," Magica sneered.

Bentina's scowl transformed into a smirk. She could afford to wait. Could Magica?

"Or were you wondering why I targeted your precious Webbigail?" she continued. "Because I can answer that. You see, dumb, dumb little Lena had the misfortune to fall in love with her. She was quite disgusting about it-mooning over her and everything.

"She stalled for years to keep me from getting what I needed in a vain attempt to protect Webby from my wrath. I didn't get entirely what I wanted, but I got in a few licks."

She laughed. "And I might have permanently brain damaged Lena, which is all to the good. She would have deserved it for letting her father die."

At that, she sobered. "Little traitor. I can't believe Poe is gone…"

She gasped and, surprisingly, she didn't sound like she was giving crocodile tears. She might genuinely be grieved by Poe's condition. There might have been a capacity to love within Magica, albeit buried and conditional. That could explain her attachment to Gladstone.

Magica straightened up as best as she could considering her predicament and huffed. "Well? I'm not telling you any more than that. You can stand here all day if you want, but I won't give you anything."

Bentina snorted. She had already spoken more than she'd intended. Bentina knew from experience that Magica tended to gloat when winning and complain when losing. In the meanwhile, her mind whirled over the revelations. While she was glad Lena hadn't been permanently injured by Magica's mental attack, she wondered what kind of condition Lena was in after having been mentally blasted so many times, all to protect Webby. She must truly love her granddaughter.

She ignored Magica's further rambling and went back upstairs, where she discovered Cal waiting for her at the top of the staircase. He was scowling at her in a way that told her he knew what she'd been up to and he didn't approve. Cal had prescribed bed rest for her, Webby, and Lena. To her knowledge, though, none of them were adhering to his prescription.

"Back to bed," he ordered. If she had her voice, she might have chastised him for thinking he could boss her around. As it was, however, she reluctantly followed him back to her bed. She discovered Lena and Webby in her room and Cal growled.

"All of you, go to bed! Your own beds!" he said, noting the looks Lena and Webby shot each other. "Now!"

After he'd seen that Mrs. Beakley was in her bed and not getting out, he rounded on the girls and shooed them out too. Webby cast her a despondent gaze; she was more worried about her grandmother and Lena than she was about herself. That was typical Webby. Of course, it was to her detriment, but Webby always believed in putting herself last. She suppressed a sigh. Oh, Webbigail.

When Cal returned, she cleared her throat and said, in a hoarse voice, weak but still audible, "You do know they're going to ignore you, right? They are teenagers."

"So you can speak again," Cal mused. "Still, it'd be best for you to rest your voice and let it regain its strength. As for their sneaking around, no, I wouldn't doubt it."

They would be seeking solace in each other. Of course, in doing so, they would probably be ignoring their problems in favor of worrying about the other person. Mrs. Beakley suppressed a groan. As soon as she had her full vocal power back, she needed to have a talk with them. Heaven knew someone did, especially Lena.

"Go to sleep," Cal instructed and Bentina stifled a humorless laugh. There was only so much resting one could do before one grew bored of it. As soon as he'd disappeared, she grabbed a book off her nightstand and started reading. Then she rolled her eyes-it was one of Della's adventure stories. How had that found its way here? Or had Della donated it in the hopes that it might cheer her up? Well, she wouldn't put it past the younger woman.

Deciding that reading that was better than staring up at the ceiling and counting floaters, she opened the book and settled in. She tried not to worry about what her granddaughter and Lena might be getting up to or whether Dewey was worried sick about both of them (he probably was). She also tried not to think about Scrooge popping in on Magica and taunting her.

Sometimes, she suspected there was a sort of black romance going on between them, a hate-hate relationship that might be sexual in nature. Then she realized she had absolutely no interest in that as it involved thinking far too much about her employer than she wanted to. It was bad enough that he flaunted his relationship with Goldie about the manor.

She tried not to let other thoughts intrude on her reading. It was such a pain when you were trying to read and you kept thinking about everything under the sun. In that way, reading was not a distraction. However, it could be an escape, which was why she thought Della enjoyed it so much.

At least she had her voice back, albeit not as powerful as before. She'd been worried Magica had cut her vocal cords. That ought to be a relief, though her mind kept drifting back to Lena and Webby. And Magica. Damn it all. She was too wound up to relax.

She didn't have a mental connection with Webby as powerful as it might have been if Webby were a direct descendant and she'd used up magic contacting her before. But she reached out for her now to reassure herself that Webby was all right. Webby didn't notice; perhaps Mrs. Beakley's touch was too subtle. Or perhaps Webby was otherwise occupied. Mrs. Beakley wouldn't hold it against her if she was. Heaven knew that Webby could use the distraction.

* * *

Even with her mouth healing, Webby didn't care. She hugged Lena to her and kissed her desperately, knowing that she could have lost her, knowing that Magica had wanted both of them dead. Dewey had hopped into the room too, though he wasn't supposed to be here either. Cal had wanted both girls to rest and relax, which wasn't happening. Dewey hugged Webby to her and stroked her cheek. Apparently, he'd resigned himself to sharing Webby. She wasn't sure whether Lena and Dewey had feelings for each other or had decided that this was the best possible outcome, at least right now.

She knew Lena wasn't too chuffed about sharing her, though she wasn't putting up any objections right now. The only problem, as far as Webby could see, was that the kissing wasn't entirely distracting her from Poe's death. Webby pulled back and realized Lena was crying. The older girl took in her injuries at a glance and attempted to wrest herself completely free of Webby.

Webby grabbed her wrists.

"Hey," Webby said softly. "Hey. Don't run away."

Talking was difficult and painful, but she made the effort for Lena. What she wanted now, more than anything was to Bond with her. That way, they wouldn't need to worry about physical limitations or losing each other again. She'd know when Lena was in danger and be able to save her. She could be Lena's knight in shining armor.

"It's my fault this happened," Lena said, shaking her head. "I dragged you into this."

"No," Webby said and speaking stretched the wounds on her face. Dewey hissed.

"You shouldn't speak that much," he reprimanded. "You heard what the doctor said."

Yes, she had heard what Cal had said, but that didn't matter, not if she couldn't get through to Lena through nonverbal communication. Perhaps Lena felt guilty for letting Webby's kissing distract her earlier. Perhaps this was how she attempted to make up for it, by trying to pull away before she derived too much comfort from it.

"Lena, don't go," she pleaded. At least with Cal's healing, speaking didn't open up the wounds, but it brought sharp pangs to her cheeks and mouth. Lena winced, looking guiltier than ever. She wasn't a happy camper and Webby feared she might leave anyway, regardless of Webby's entreaties.

The older girl hesitated, surveying her wounds and then weighing her options. If she left, Webby would pursue her. She'd risk exacerbating her injuries to convince her to linger. If she stayed, she'd succumb to her own desires. Then again, the only person who cared what Lena did now, besides her and Dewey, was Lena. Magica wouldn't care what befell her niece unless Lena was unlucky enough to fall and break her neck. Then she might concern herself.

" _Please_ ," Webby added and then yelped in pain.

"Webby…" Lena faltered and her expression was anguished.

"Stay," Dewey added and Lena spun about, startled by his intervention. "We both want you to stay. Besides, where would you go? To your hideout? To be alone? You shouldn't be alone right now. I remember when I first learned what happened to my mom. I wanted to be left alone too-that wasn't the best idea."

"But Della's still alive," she protested.

"She was still missing for ten years in the jungle," Dewey replied. "That counts for something."

"I had Poe as a bird father for years and didn't act on it…" Lena said. "It's my fault he died. Magica's right."

"Would you listen to yourself?" he objected. "Since when is Magica right about anything? Ever? You're not worthless and it's not your fault Poe died. It's Magica's for shoving him into that form in the first place. You didn't do anything wrong, Lena."

"I could have-" she protested.

"You didn't want to risk losing Webby or us," he said. "I understand. And you never knew your dad."

"That's what Webby said," Lena snapped, straightening up and glaring at Dewey. "That doesn't make it right."

"Magica put you in an impossible situation," Dewey argued. Webby was surprised he felt so passionately about this. Then again, she wasn't sure how much of his argument was based off on how he felt about Webby versus Lena herself. He was determined to prove his case.

Lena scowled. It didn't seem like she had an argument. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and then slid off the bed.

"Don't!" Webby cried, yanking on her wrists. Lena halted, staring back at her.

She was risking re-injuring herself, even if she didn't open the wounds back up. But she had to impress upon Lena how important this was. Why couldn't she see it? Or did she want to punish herself more than she wanted to be with them?

"If you do this, you're only letting Magica win," Dewey said. "You're acting exactly how she'd want you to behave. If she can't kill you, then she'd want to make you miserable. She wants to make everyone as miserable as she is."

Lena sat back on the bed and assessed the two of them. She nudged Dewey.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me, blue," she said, though she was smiling at him.

"Well, Webby does and maybe I do…" he said and Lena snorted.

"No 'maybe'," she said. Her eyes were bright. "All right, fine. You wore me down. I'll stay. Where is Aunt Magica, anyway?"

"Down in the dungeons," Dewey said and Webby hit him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"I'm not going to bust her out," Lena said. Webby knew that, but she thought perhaps Lena had something else in mind. She would speak with her, she'd upset herself again, and then she'd leave. Webby couldn't risk it. They'd need to have someone keep an eye on Lena for a while, in case she did a runner.

"I didn't say that you were," Dewey said, frowning. "Why did you hit me?"

"I'll be fine," Lena said, spying Webby's look. Webby folded her arms across her chest.

"I will," Lena insisted. "Take a little on faith, pink."

No, faith wasn't the problem. The problem was that Magica was abusive and yet, she was Lena's only parental figure. Therefore, she'd run back to her anyway, even if it meant that it'd do more damage in the long run. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't say much against it, but she refused to let Lena hurt herself.

"You don't believe me," Lena said.

"No," Webby said, despite the pain it cost her. "I don't."

"I'm not going to betray you," Lena said.

"I'm not worried about that," Webby answered. She put a hand up to her cheek, which was throbbing now. She tasted blood in her mouth and sighed. Calente was going to be upset with her.

"I'm just going to have a little conversation with her. That's not illegal, is it?" Lena said, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dewey said, thankfully finally on Webby's wavelength.

Webby knew it wasn't a good idea. She glowered at Lena.

"You two can come too, if you want," Lena said, sighing. "You might as well since you're determined to be my shadows now."

That wasn't the compromise Webby wanted and Lena knew it. Why was Lena being so obstinate? Well, two could play at that game. Even without speaking, Webby could let Lena know just how little she approved of this plan.

"It'll only be a few minutes," Lena said. "And yeah, I get it. You object. Strenuously. Relax, pink. I'm not going to do anything that'd hurt you or Dewey."

Webby was swallowing back anger. "Don't you get that I'm not worried about myself? Or Dewey? I'm worried about you, you beautiful idiot!"

As she said this, her mouth filled with blood again and she cursed, spitting out a glob. Oh, yes, Calente was going to be infuriated and she only had herself to blame. But there was only so far she could be pushed.

"She can't physically touch me or mentally...she's behind bars…" Lena said, nonplussed and then worried by what Webby's outburst had cost her.

"Webby...you should really see the doctor," Lena said, her expression drawn.

"Seriously, Webby," Dewey said, his expression likewise constricted. "And we can put off seeing Magica unless you want me to go with Lena?"

Oh, sure, treat her like the invalid just because she was injured. She seethed, tempted to spit blood in Dewey's face. Instead, she elbowed him in the stomach and stood up with her arms folded across her chest. If Lena wasn't happy, then Webby was far past that point and verging on enraged.

"It'll only be five minutes," Lena argued. "Ten, tops. Relax, okay?"

She kept telling her to do that. It wasn't happening. She glowered.

Lena kissed her on the cheek. "Glad you understand."

Oh, she was going to wring her neck when they got back. No, wait, she wasn't. Because she was coming too, blood-filled mouth or not. Don't count her out.

When Lena moved toward the dungeons, which Webby supposed she must've known from skulking about the manor for Magica, Webby came with her.

"I'm not really sure you should be walking around like that," Dewey said. Webby glared at him too.

"But you have that scary look on your face that tells me if I don't listen to you, you're going to hurt me," he added.

Her eyes narrowed.

"All right, all right, you can come," he said.

"You really shouldn't-" Lena halted, reluctant to encourage Webby further. "Never mind. You do what you want. You can even spit blood in my aunt's face. Knock yourself out."

Webby snorted and choked back blood. Oh, she would spit blood in Magica's face. The bitch deserved it. As for confronting her again, she'd enjoy seeing her injured. Webby didn't consider herself an evil person, but she did have some dark tendencies that were brought out by seeing people hurt the ones she loved. In that respect, she couldn't be held responsible for how she acted.

"This isn't a good idea…" Dewey said and Webby just glared at him again. "You know what? I'm cool with that."

Webby smirked. He'd better be. She wasn't giving either of them a choice in the matter.

* * *

Magica stared out the bars of her cell. After the children had come to harangue her and she'd tongue lashed Lena, things had grown rather quiet. She'd taken pleasure in seeing Webby's mouth full of blood, even if the little urchin had spat at her. Even magical healing hadn't eradicated the problem. She could see how much effort it took for Webby to speak and she'd laughed in her face. The best part was how distraught Lena was over Webby. That had almost made her maiming worth it. Almost.

Except now, in the cold dungeon cell, she had nothing to entertain her. She was left alone with her thoughts, which kept cycling back to how Poe had perished. She wanted to keep blaming Lena because it felt safe and fueled her rage, which hardly needed stoking at this point. However, what the blue brat had said had penetrated. Perhaps it was Lena's fault for not procuring the elixir in time, but it was Magica's fault that Poe had turned into a bird in the first place.

Growing up, she had never properly appreciated Poe. He'd been non-magical, which meant she had little use for him. Then, when he'd grown swept up in her schemes, he decided to take a step back and take care of his daughter, Lena. This had incensed Magica and, a few years after Lena's birth, she'd convinced him once more to accompany her on another risky venture. She'd wanted to punish Lena for existing because she'd stolen Poe's attention away from his sister. Yes, she was jealous of a child. Yes, she realized how pathetic that sounded.

To her consternation, Poe's last heist with her had sealed their fate. She was glad to be back in humanoid form, but it had destroyed her. Without any vestiges of magic left, without her brother, in captivity and awaiting trial, Magica had nothing and no one. She wasn't sure Scrooge could be counted on to convey a message to Gladstone, assuming they could even find him. Moreover, she wasn't sure Gladstone would still support her, given the circumstances.

She closed her remaining eye; she didn't see the point in attempting sleep, however. That damnable Beakley had tightened her restraints to be as painful as possible to punish her for attacking Webbigail. Still, she must have slumbered, or at least dozed, because when she next glanced at the sky, the moon was up. She could just see its impression from the high window in her cell.

Someone cleared their throat and she turned. Gladstone was standing there, a vision in green, and her heart stopped. She sprang to her feet, forgetting the chains, and fell back down. With a whimper, because her posterior ached even if she didn't have a tail in this form, she stared at him. He was staring back and his look was unkind.

Her lower lip quivered. She could explain. With trembling hands, she reached out toward him.  _Please don't forsake me…_

Instead of speaking, he studied her for a few minutes. The longer he went without speaking, the more her hopes diminished. Wasn't he going to say something, even if it was to condemn her? Her throat was tight and she extended her trembling fingers as far as they could go. Anything, she would take anything from him, if only he would speak.

He clasped her hands in his and she exhaled raggedly, relieved beyond words. He surveyed her face and then, releasing one of her hands, cupped her cheek, right below her missing eye. She gazed up at him with utter desperation. If he didn't vouch for her or at least plead clemency, she'd have no one. But...why wasn't he speaking?

Her throat was tight and tears welled in her good eye. She intertwined their fingers.

"Uncle Scrooge said he'll stay the trial, on one condition," Gladstone said and crouched near her. She tried to inch closer to the bars, but couldn't quite reach them. She nodded, not trusting herself to be capable of a response.

"You have to Bond with me," he said. "He thinks it's the only way to prevent you from losing your head over his family again. Somehow, he's under the impression I can help calm you down."

He smiled crookedly. "Is that true, Magica? Would you consent to it?"

The smile flickered and faded. "Otherwise, the punishment for attacking his top bodyguard, her daughter, and attempted murder, child endangerment, and child abuse would probably be...well…"

The death penalty. Scrooge might carry it out, too. She wouldn't put it past him. After all, he could be hard-hearted against those who hurt his family.

"Magica…" he breathed and pushed himself as close as he could get to the bars since she had no slack in her chains. "I lost track of you for years only to find you like this."

"I was trapped as a dragon for almost fifteen years," she said. They couldn't quite get close to kiss, though he brushed his fingers against her lips. She sighed.

"I missed you...I couldn't find you…"

"I...I missed you too…" she admitted. If this was the only way to escape her destiny, then, well, there were worse things that could happen. Besides, she did want to Bond with him. Or at least be near him. They could always hammer out the details later.

"So you'll do it? You'll Bond with me?" he asked and she winced at the eagerness in his voice. To Bond with him would be to share everything, past and present, and it would also force her to let herself be vulnerable, even if only to him. In the past, she'd not considered it because she thought the risks outweigh the gains. Now, however, when it was her life in the balance…

"Give me a few minutes to…" she stopped. Why was she stalling? She had nothing left, no cards left to play. "Yes. I'll do it."

She wasn't sure whether the one condition Scrooge had mentioned was just Bonding or something else in addition to it. Somehow, she doubted he'd let her off the hook that easily. There were probably other requirements, but for the time being, she would remain alive. She wouldn't be able to Fly with him and have the Bonding Flight, because she was still injured. She didn't even know how flight would work with a damaged tail (thanks again, Webbigail).

"I'll get you out of here," Gladstone promised. His eyes narrowed at her spartan cell and squalid condition. "I promise."

"One step at a time," she said and her lips twitched. "Scroogie won't be as forgiving this time."

If he ever was. Gladstone nodded, stepping back. When he released her hand and her cheek, she mourned the loss of contact.

"I'll be back," he promised. "Sit tight, okay?"

She smiled humorlessly. "There's no other way to sit."

For a few seconds, he looked like he wanted to respond to that. However, he shook his head and disappeared soon after. Without even a goodbye. She wasn't surprised, even if she was a little hurt. Then again, how much more damage could she take, physically and emotionally?

She reached for her tether to Lena but there was a block in place. Someone was shielding the girl from Magica's wrath. Even if Magica had had the firepower to attack her, she couldn't have gotten to her.

Magica sighed and closed her eye again. Maybe tomorrow would be kinder.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladstone argues for clemency for Magica and is denied. Lena, Webby, and Dewey have a moment.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Gladstone snapped at his uncle. Mrs. Beakley was in the room too and her eyes narrowed. She could speak, albeit sparingly, and she disapproved. As far as she was concerned, Magica was a flight risk. Not literally--the woman wouldn’t be able to shift into a dragon and take off. Without part of her tail, she’d be rudderless.

  


“She shouldn’t be outside, regardless,” Scrooge retorted. “She’s an attempted murderer, not to mention her other crimes. I don’t want her to Bond with you until she’s healthy enough to do so and she’s not doing anything other than Bonding with you until she’s healed. She can stay in the dungeon.”

  


“You’re being cruel.”

  


“You seem to forget that she intended to give her niece a grand mal seizure,” Scrooge growled. “Let me refresh your memory. She wanted both Lena and Webby dead, as well as plotting against your second cousins, Donald’s nephews and my great-nephews. She is a liability at best, Gladstone. At best.”

  


“So she has problems with priorities. I can talk to her.”

  


“We’re far beyond the talking phase, lad. I cannot trust her outside of the dungeon without her magic dampened and weak.”

  


“What do you think she’d do if she got free? I’m her last hope!”

  


“Finish what she started. She has a mental connection to Lena. She wants to be rid of the lass.”

  


He fixed his nephew a stern look. “Would you defend her so virulently if she had successfully killed her niece? Are you that addled?”

  


“She wouldn’t have killed her,” Gladstone said and Scrooge scoffed.

  


“You are that deluded,” he said and waved his hand dismissively. “She may make an exception for you, but Magica de Spell has a dark heart and darker ambitions. You cannae trust her as far as you can throw her. She would have killed Lena and then kept on until she achieved her goals.”

  


“She’s not a murderer.”

  


“Just because she hasn't killed anyone that you know of doesn’t mean she is not a murderer!” he retorted.

  


“She was desperate,” he said, switching tactics. “She didn’t have a choice. She wouldn’t have--”

  


“She didnae have a choice?” Scrooge repeated. “I don’t care if it was between her falling to her death or killing Lena--anyone who cares at all about children would have rather died than murder a child!”

  


Gladstone’s back was against the proverbial wall and Mrs. Beakley could see he was having a hard time suppressing his anger. His eyes flashed draconic gold and his tail materialized to whip through the air. His hands had elongated into dragon footpads and talons. Perhaps he was so defensive because he realized Magica was indefensible. Or because he feared what Scrooge was saying was true and the woman he loved was a monster.

  


“You don’t understand her the way I do,” he persisted.

  


“Aye, lad, I don’t, and I’m glad for it,” he said, cold and disdainful. “I am not letting her out of the dungeon. That’s final. You want to Bond with her, you have my gratitude. But I cannae countenance her freely moving about the manor.”

  


“What if I can prove she won’t hurt anyone?” he begged.

  


“You cannae prove it to my satisfaction. This conversation is finished.”

  


Gladstone hissed, his tongue flicking out of his mouth forked. Mrs. Beakley snorted and he glowered at her. Say what you want about her romantic proclivities, at least she hadn’t fallen for a psychopath. And she never would have tolerated Bonding with someone who was clearly insane. True, she hadn’t Bonded at all, because she’d never met anyone compatible with her, though that hadn’t stopped her from having Wren. Bonding was such a commitment that she had a difficult time understanding why someone so impudent, pompous, vainglorious, and frivolous would enter into a Bond willingly. Moreover, why someone would choose to mate with him. Then again, Magica was mad.

  


“Then I’ll stay in the dungeon near her,” he proposed and Scrooge snorted.

  


“It’s your funeral.”

  


Gladstone growled, leaving the room. Mrs. Beakley half expected him to stomp his feet like a petulant child. As he left, Scrooge glanced at her. She had her arms folded across her chest and shook her head at the foolish, brazen young man. Once he had gone, she shut the door behind him and then locked it for good measure.

  


“Why would anyone in their right mind Bond with that lunatic?” Scrooge demanded.

  


“I’d say she cast a spell on him, but that’s clearly not it,” she whispered. She massaged her throat. Cal had ordered her to speak as little as possible; it seemed to defy medical orders ran in the family. She’d been furious to discover Webby’s mouth full of blood after she’d exacerbated her injury. Of course, she understood why she’d done it--she needed to have a talk with Lena herself. They were too stubborn for their own good.

  


“No, that’s not it. Damn, it’d be so much easier to rid ourselves of Magica if no one had any defense for her. I still dinnae know why he has one.”

  


“We could cast a spell ourselves,” she suggested and he scoffed.

  


“I dinnae want to use more magic than I have to. You know how I feel about magic, all kinds of it. I had no choice when I fought Magica, but that’s different.”

  


She nodded, although she thought spying on Magica and discerning her true relationship with Gladstone had merit. Perhaps there was a way to accomplish it behind Scrooge’s back. After all, he didn’t always know what was best for the situation. And she needed all the information she could get about Magica. She remained incensed over her behavior, though she kept a civil tongue around Scrooge.

  


“How is Webbigail?” he asked, shifting gears and startling her.

  


“She had to have another magical surgery.” She shook her head. “She was being reckless.”

  


“I wonder where that comes from,” he smirked.

  


Rolling her eyes at him, she glanced back at the door.

  


“If you want to go check on her, go ahead,” he said.

  


“She’s been sticking to Lena,” Mrs. Beakley said, shaking her head.

  


“I need to have a chat with that lass. She may not want to stay in McDragon Manor and we cannae let her leave. If she leaves, Magica’s power over her will return.”

  


Mrs. Beakley scowled. That sounded like something he shouldn’t be keeping to himself. Then again, if he intended to confront Lena himself, she supposed he had better tell her. Perhaps something of this showed in her face because he shrank back. Despite being her employer, he feared her and rightfully so.

  


“I’ll go find the lass,” he said. “We might as well go together; they’re bound to be in the same place.”

  


While she had Webby, she might as well give her a lecture about not agitating open wounds, not to mention attacking someone much more powerful than her and biting down on their tail. Webby could have taken Magica, Mrs. Beakley had no doubt about that, but she shouldn’t have attacked what was obviously a well-fortified part of her body.

  


Still, she wouldn’t have been part of the family if she hadn’t been stubborn, especially about protecting what she perceived as hers.

  


* * *

 

Half awake, Webby nuzzled Lena. She refused to let her out of her sight, except when absolutely necessary. Dewey was on Webby’s other side with his arm slung over her waist. She could feel his heartbeat against her back, though that might’ve been her imagination. Even half-awake, she wanted to Bond with Lena so badly that her heart ached with desire. If Magica dared to attack Lena again, Webby would know as soon as it happened and put a stop to it.

  


“I love you…” she whispered to Lena. She shouldn’t be talking at all, truth be told. Cal would be unhappy if he found out, but she had to tell her. She squeezed Dewey’s hand and then nuzzled Lena again.

  


Lena shushed her. “You shouldn’t be talking and you know it, Webs.”

  


After a moment, she relented. “I love you too.”

  


She pulled Webby in closer to her, which forced Dewey to either relinquish his grasp on her or shift closer himself. He chose the latter and she was sandwiched perfectly between them. Shutting her eyes, she intertwined her fingers with Dewey and Lena. Lena nuzzled her back and their lips brushed.

  


The door creaked open and Webby was too tired to lift her head.

  


“Maybe we should let them rest,” Scrooge said. “They’ve had a trying day.”

  


“We’ll come back later,” Mrs. Beakley agreed, her voice raspy. It was enough to jolt Webby awake completely and she glanced around her. She sat upright.

  


“Granny?” she called.

  


“Go to sleep,” she replied. Lena and Dewey shifted, although Dewey looked disinclined to move anywhere. And Louie was the lazy one? Hmph.

  


“But you can talk! And you’re out of bed!” Webby exclaimed.

  


“And you shouldn’t be talking. Nor should you be leaving bed.”

  


Abashed, Webby lay back down. Perhaps to help take the sting out of her grandmother’s words, Lena caressed Webby’s cheek. She could almost feel Lena’s regard for her, even if she couldn’t share in it through the Bond. It could’ve been a reflection for how deeply Webby felt for her. Although, if Lena had endured all that for her, she must love her a great deal.

  


“We’ll talk with you in the morning,” Scrooge promised. “Sleep well, sweet dreams, lassies. And lad.”

  


Dewey huffed and then stroked Webby’s hair. Webby’s eyelids fluttered shut again and this time, she felt herself slipping into sleep. She was too warm and felt too safe to fight it any longer.

  


“I love you too,” Dewey whispered in her ear.

  


Webby smiled. She was loved and that was all that mattered right now. She was loved and the two people she loved most in the world were never leaving her side. All was right with the world.

  


\----

 


	14. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a flashback sequence that takes place before the series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, peeps. I thought rather than post a chapter, I'll wait until Christmas to do so. Therefore, you'll get a sort of "bonus" chapter now and the actual chapter on Tuesday.

When she didn’t feel well, such as when Magica’s attacks grew too much, she hid. Magica would punish her for hiding and not seeking out Webbigail to manipulate, but Lena was too weak usually to heed her summons. As a result, she huddled in a ball and waited it out. Her mouth was dry and cramps riddled her midsection. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rocked back and forth and whimpered.

 

Her hideout wasn’t much more than a hole in the wall where an old apartment building used to stand. It had bare hardwood floors and a tattered chair. Instead of a bed, she lay atop a pile of blankets and rested her head on a coat she’d balled into a pillow. She knew she ought to get a few more decorations, but it’d distract her from her mission. And besides, when she crashed here, it was because she didn’t have the strength to make it back to McDragon Manor.

 

“Wow, this place is the pits,” a familiar voice said and Lena lifted her head. Dewey and Webby were standing in the middle of the dusty floor and their feet left tracks. As this loft was at the very top of a ten-story abandoned apartment building on the edge of town, she was impressed they’d gotten up here. The only set of stairs that reached the loft had been ravaged by fire and therefore, were unstable. Magica often remarked that Lena might break her neck ascending to her loft. The thought alternatively had amused her aunt and irritated her because she didn’t want anything to happen to her pawn until she had what she wanted.

 

“Lena? Are you in here?” Webby called.

 

How had they found her? She hadn’t left a trail, had she? She tried to remember where she’d first met Webby, but the band about her head was making thinking difficult. She tasted blood and spat out a globule. Lena’s makeshift bed was tucked into a corner of the room where she might be easily overlooked. When she was injured, such as now, she preferred to act like a cornered animal, seek shelter, and hide until the pain passed.

 

“I hear something,” Dewey said. Why had she brought him? Lena groaned, rolling over, and something stuck in her throat. She coughed up more blood and hugged herself as pain wracked her body. Perhaps this was more than Magica’s doing. Magica dealt with the head, which explained her massive headache, but not the pain in her chest.

 

“Lena? We’re respecting your privacy by calling out to you but checking in on you because we love you by coming in anyway,” Webby called and Lena snorted. That soon turned into another coughing fit and Webby’s head turned in her direction. She beckoned Dewey over and the two knelt at her side.

 

“Wow...you don’t look so hot…” Dewey said. Webby pressed a palm to Lena’s forehead and then hissed, pulling it back.

 

“You’re burning up,” Webby said. She frowned at her best friend. “We haven’t seen you for two weeks and we were getting worried.”

 

Two weeks--had it been that long? Lena had lost track of the days. She’d been passing the time in a fever haze. For some reason, despite the blankets she heaped on and the hot shower she’d rigged with magic, nothing seemed to warm her. Her teeth chattered and she was cold, so cold. It’d make sense that she had a fever.

 

“Her eyes are glazed,” he remarked. “Lena, can you hear us?”

 

“Of course I can hear you--” she started and then collapsed, coughing again. Webby pulled her into a tight embrace and Lena noted dully the blood that splattered the floor from her coughs. While her best friend was alarmed, Lena felt a dull resignation. She was too depressed to care that she might be seriously ill. Magica had wreaked havoc on her mind again and she felt like she was trapped. The situation would never change, things would never get better, and she’d be doomed to spend her entire life doing Magica’s bidding until the old bitch died if she ever did. With Lena’s luck, Aunt Magica would outlive her.

 

“We should bring her back to the manor,” Dewey said and he sounded worried. “Between the fever, the bloody coughs, and her shivering, she’s in awful shape.”

 

“Why didn’t you call me when things got this bad?” Webby reprimanded, wagging a finger at her. “You have a phone.”

 

Lena’s lips quirked. She couldn’t recall what she’d been thinking, although preventing Webby from coddling her had been among the thoughts she could vaguely remember. Webby was stroking her hair and it felt so good, so relaxing, that Lena had problems following her conversation with Dewey. The two talked as though she wasn’t there, which she wasn’t. She was drifting somewhere and it seemed pleasant enough. Magica wasn’t pestering her and she could float away into oblivion.

 

“We’ll fly her back. It’s faster,” Webby said, the first words to penetrate the fog in her mind. Lena blinked.

 

“I’ll fly on your back and hold her up so she doesn’t fall off,” he volunteered and Webby nodded.

 

“I don’t need your help,” Lena slurred. Her tongue was thick and she felt like she had lost control of it. Perhaps that accounted for the next few words she spoke. “I’ll die here. S’fine.”

 

Webby objected, but Lena didn’t hear what she said, per se. The darkness tugged at her again and this time, Lena embraced it as an old friend. She let it carry her away and nothing, not their shouts nor their shaking, could bring her back.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m worried about Lena,” Webby said. They’d brought the teenager back to the manor with them and Calente was examining her now. He’d shooed her and Dewey out of the room and Webby rocked back and forth on her heels in agitation. She couldn’t stand still and her gaze flicked to the infirmary, where Cal was treating Lena. They were across the hall from it; she’d refused to go much further and Dewey had, of course, stayed by her side. He was stalwart and loyal like that.

 

“With what she said, it almost sounded like she wanted to die,” Dewey said, shuddering. “What’s going on with her?”

 

“I don’t know. She’s keeping secrets from me.”

 

Frustrated, Webby paced and then pivoted, doubling back on herself.

 

“Who’d want to stay in that hole in the wall?” he asked. “No wonder she normally sleeps here.”

 

Webby scowled. The way Lena had purported herself, she had seemed suicidal to Webby too. It was alarming and made her want to rush back in there and tell her over and over that she was loved and wanted. Of course, Lena wasn’t conscious, which would make that difficult, but not impossible. Webby had heard that sometimes people could hear what you said even when they had fainted and it could tether them back to reality.

 

“She looked so miserable…” she whispered and hugged herself. Dewey wrapped an arm about her waist.

 

“Calente will fix her. You’ll see.”

 

Assuming she wanted to be fixed. Webby shuddered again and, unable to wait any longer, she burst toward the infirmary door, which was locked against intruders. Growling, she breathed in, preparing to launch her fire breath, when Calente opened the door and took the wind out of her proverbial sails. He scowled at her.

 

“She’s asleep,” he told them. “Don’t go breathing fire around the med bay, Webbigail. Some of these materials are highly flammable.”

 

“Wait, you’re giving people stuff that could set them on fire?” Dewey asked, perplexed.

 

“I’m...I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Cal said and sighed. He shook his head at them. “If you must visit, be quiet and careful. She’s in a right state.”

 

They entered the room for Webby to see what Cal meant. Although Lena was in a physically more comfortable position and a safer location than before, she looked no better than she had. Her eyes had long shadows and she was whimpering in her sleep. It tore at Webby’s heart to know how miserable Lena was.

 

“Wonder what she’s dreaming about?” Dewey asked.

 

“No idea…” Webby said and smoothed back Lena’s hair. She knew they’d made the right decision in bringing her here, but whatever Cal had done hadn’t exorcized Lena’s demons. If anything, they seemed more impertinent than before and more demanding.

 

“She knows no one’s going to hurt her, doesn’t she?” Dewey asked.

 

Webby frowned deeply. It didn’t seem like Lena knew that at all. If anything, she seemed to think the opposite. She reached out and took Lena’s hand. It was hot in her own, but that didn’t stop Webby from clasping it between both of hers.

 

“Sleep well, sweet dreams,” Webby whispered. It was a benediction.

 

* * *

 

The joke was on Webby. Lena almost never had sweet dreams. Right now, she muddled through a mess, her aunt berating and torturing her, the pain in her chest, and the yearning to be near Webby. It never stopped, any of it, no matter how much Lena might wish it to. The world kept spinning inexorably on, regardless.

 

It kept spinning and she was so very tired. She wanted to succumb, for once in her life, to despair. Yet she felt Webby’s hands about her own and sighed inwardly. There were repercussions for that. Then again, there were repercussions for everything in this life. Look at her father. All he’d wanted to do was help Magica, or so Lena supposed, and now he was a goddamn crow.

 

Lena’s thoughts began to unravel and she couldn’t focus on any one idea. The crow bled into a magical ceremony and from there to Webby pleading with her with her hands clasped together and tears in her eyes, to Scrooge McDragon in his dragon form and towering above her...to the elixir and the treasure, yearned for but never to be hers...or Magica’s...sometimes she thought she and Magica were really the same person.

 

But if she was the same as Magica, then why did she feel so strongly about Webby? What did it mean, anyway? What did any of it mean?

 

She was just a cog in the machine and she was replaceable. No one would even notice she was gone. No one except maybe Webby. Webby…

 

Her last clear thought was of Webby extending her arms out to her with tears in her eyes. Lena scoffed. She wasn’t worth it.


	15. Chapter 15

She should be resting in bed. Cal had been explicit in his instructions, telling her that she required sleep to help her heal. Again, she was defying medical orders by being awake and alert, sifting through Scrooge’s vast library to locate information on Bonding. Specifically, how she might trigger a Bonding ceremony. It appeared that she wouldn’t be able to do so on her own...and also, the incantations involved would require speaking; Cal had stitched her mouth and speaking too much would cause the wound to open up again. One experience with her mouth full of blood was enough, thank you.  
  
Unfortunately, it had to be she who spoke the incantations. She also had to convince Dewey and Lena to speak them with her, which would be doubly hard considering she was forbidden to talk aloud. Webby glowered down at the book. She was focusing on it so hard that she didn’t notice Della wheeling up to her.  
  
Webby startled when Della’s hand brushed against hers and she assumed a defensive position. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. No, she didn’t want a repeat of earlier.  
  
“Should you be out of bed?” Della scolded. “And...what do we have here?”  
  
She pulled the book toward her and Webby huffed.  
  
“You’ve made up your mind?” she asked quietly. “Did you choose between them? Or are you keeping them both?”  
  
Webby gave her a look and Della laughed, embarrassed.  
  
“Right. Can’t talk. Forgot. All right. Blink once for Dewey, twice for Lena, and three times if you haven’t decided between them.”  
  
Webby blinked three times and Della shook her head with a rueful smile.  
  
“Dewey isn’t going to like that,” she said. “But he doesn’t have much of a choice, does he?”  
  
Webby smiled back.  
  
“You’ll be able to work it out amongst yourselves.”  
  
Della’s smile faded and transformed into a frown. “But what’s your hurry? Why are you so insistent on doing this that you needed to come down here in the middle of the night?”  
  
She couldn’t explain, not non-verbally. Frustrated, she cast about for writing implements. Della located a pen and paper for her and Webby proceeded to write frantically, as though the words were trapped inside of her and were poisoning her the longer she held onto them. She finished with a flourish and presented the paper to her.  
  
“You have that little faith in Lena?”  
  
Webby gestured for the pad again and scribbled a response. Della frowned, contemplating that. She didn’t say anything for a minute, as she was chewing on it. Webby frowned back.  
  
“I see,” she said after another minute had passed. “That’s problematic. But you can’t compel someone to Bond with you, Webby. I mean, Dewey would probably do it in a heartbeat, because he’s been fixated on you for years now. And Lena loves you, I can tell she does, but that’s a big leap for someone who hates herself. She’d probably feel like she was burdening you if she Bonded to you.”  
  
Webby bit back an impatient response and scrawled it out on the pad instead.  
  
“I know, but she doesn’t see it that way. She’d think she was doing you a favor. Trust me, she’s not in a good place emotionally right now. Your bringing up the issue would hurt rather than help her.”  
  
Webby let out a tense breath between her clenched teeth. Why didn’t Lena see herself the way Webby saw her? Lena had sacrificed so much, fought against so much injustice, and she didn’t see herself as strong and powerful? How could she not? Why was Magica’s word so much more compelling than someone who genuinely cared about her?  
  
“I know you’re frustrated. It’s a frustrating situation. You have to give her some time and space. She just lost her father.”  
  
Webby’s lower lip quivered. A small part of her, the selfish part she usually beat back, wanted to snap that Webby had never known her parents, so why should Lena’s response be any different? But...she recognized that that was wrong and shoved it aside. Lena had spent her life hoping to regain her father and, just when she might have stood a chance, her hopes were crushed.  
  
Webby knew she could be patient. After all, she’d waited this long, hadn’t she? True, she hadn’t known that she was waiting, which had made the difference. However, she could do this for Lena. She could put aside her worries and strive for normalcy with her without fearing that she could leave.  
  
And if she did leave, with Magica in custody, would she come back? Webby wanted to believe that she’d provide enough of an incentive for Lena to return, though it would be the first time in Lena’s life that she was untethered. Webby’s frown deepened and Della put a hand on her shoulder. Webby hadn’t said a word, but whatever she was thinking must’ve been written upon her face, because Della placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.  
  
“If she loves you, truly loves you, she’ll always return to you.”  
  
Nodding, wishing she could hold up a decent conversation, she took the book and padded out toward her room. Della followed and covered her mouth to conceal a yawn.  
  
“Get some sleep,” Della advised and then smiled at her. “My future daughter-in-law.”  
  
Webby choked and Della grinned wickedly.  
  
“What?” she asked innocently. “You can’t tell me that that’s not going to happen. Of course, at the moment, you can’t tell me anything at all.”  
  
She could see where Dewey got his sense of humor from. Webby rolled her eyes at Della and then headed back toward her room with the book. Once she got there, she discovered Dewey waiting for her. Before she had a chance to speak, even if she was going to, he held up his hands in a defensive gesture.  
  
“Okay, I know, I know. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in a girl’s room at night, especially when I’m in love with you,” he said. “And I know your grandmother would probably have a fit. But...I had to talk to you.”  
  
Webby gesticulated, irritated, toward her throat.  
  
“You can type out your response on my laptop,” he said, offering her the two in one convertible. He had already set it to tablet mode and she sat down on her bed; she eyed him warily. Dewey placed his hand on her knee and then jumped back, perhaps afraid he was acting too familiar.  
  
“I know you’re afraid Lena’s gonna leave.”  
  
She jumped up, startled. If Dewey was here, then who was keeping an eye on Lena? Had she already fled? What if she’d returned to endure more of Magica’s abuse? Webby bolted for the door and Dewey grabbed her by the wrist. She nearly dropped the laptop in her haste to locate Lena.  
  
“She’s okay. Uncle Scrooge set your grandmother to watch her.”  
  
She released a shaky breath and turned to look at him. He smiled back; she couldn’t muster the emotion in response. Her heart was skittering around in her chest, both at the thought of Lena fleeing and that she’d needed a guard to prevent her from doing so. Then again, it might’ve been a precaution on Mr. McDragon’s part.  
  
“You can’t keep worrying about everyone else and forgetting about yourself.”  
  
She placed the laptop down on the table near the door and put her hands on her hips.  
  
“I know you’re afraid. But you can’t hold everyone together and let yourself fall apart.”  
  
She mouthed “I’m fine” at him and he rolled his eyes.  
  
“You always say that and you’re not. I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but it’s not working, Webby.”  
  
She folded her arms across her chest now and gave him “The Look”. Wincing, he ducked his head for a second before glancing back up at her.  
  
“I’m serious. I’m worried about you. You’re injured and you’re still trying to fight everyone else’s battles for them. It’s not healthy.”  
  
She could tell him she was fine, or, rather, mouth it, but if he wasn’t buying it, there was no point in prolonging the inevitable. Grabbing the convertible laptop, she wrote out a message. As she did, she noted the time on the taskbar. It was nearing three o’clock a.m., which was either very early or very late depending on your point of view.  
  
“I can’t lose her,” she wrote. “Or you. Don’t you understand?”  
  
“Yeah, I get it,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to lose you either and neither does Lena. We love you, Webs. And seeing you hurt sucks.”  
  
Grabbing the book she’d brought with her from the library, she flipped through the pages until she found the article on the Bonding ceremony. She pointed to it.  
  
“Aren’t we a little too young for that?” Dewey asked. “And who would you Bond with? Both me and Lena?”  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Have you run this by her?”  
  
Webby shook her head.  
  
“You should probably ask her before you decide you’re going to Bond with her.”  
  
She huffed, as though the answer to this should have been obvious. If they were meant to be, then, of course, Lena would say “yes”. However, that didn’t stop her doubts. Lena might not think she was good enough for her. Or she might think that Magica had a prior claim on her and make herself miserable trying to atone for Poe’s death.  
  
“I mean, I’ve dreamed about Bonding with you for years. But...is this what you want? Both of us?”  
  
She nodded.  
  
Dewey hugged her and she hugged him back.  
  
“We should get some sleep.”  
  
She glowered and he held up his hands again. “I’m just saying that it’s getting late, you need to recover, and no one’s going anywhere. I promise I’ll even stay with you if that’s what you want. But you need sleep.”  
  
She huffed again, conceding the point. Reluctantly, she allowed him to guide her back to bed and he curled up around her. She smiled, nuzzling him. The only person missing from this was Lena and, with any luck, she’d come around and they’d be together soon. Maybe there was still a way Webby could manipulate the situation to her advantage to prevent Lena from even contemplating fleeing…  
  


* * *

  
  
Magica de Spell slept fitfully, curled up in a ball as best as she could and crying in her sleep. When she awoke, it was to discover an unlikely duo near her cell. Gladstone, she could understand because he’d come and gone a lot in the last few days. Lena, on the other hand, was a surprise. The teenager looked like she hadn’t slept well, which gave Magica a perverse sense of pleasure. That was suppressed by Gladstone staring at her and, for once in her life, she felt ashamed to derive amusement from Lena’s misery.  
  
“Since when do you two work together?” she asked laconically.  
  
“We don’t work together. We wound up together,” he responded. “Besides, I’d like the answers to a few questions, namely what you were thinking when you were torturing your niece.”  
  
“That’s between me and Lena.”  
  
“Not if we’re going to Bond, it isn’t,” he shot back and Lena’s eyes widened.  
  
“Think your dear little Webster Bonded to Dewey without you?” Magica sneered and Lena flinched. She caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes and she suppressed a smirk. Yes, that had hit the mark. Imagine that she’d endured all that, lost her father, and she’d lost the love of her life. Magica wanted to twist the knife in deeper, see how much she could make Lena suffer.  
  
“Enough!” Gladstone snapped. “Why are you so determined to cause her pain?”  
  
“Why?” Magica snapped. “Because she stole my brother away from me, not once but twice. She procrastinated on saving us because she was pining for a stupid girl who barely even knows she exists, and even now, she doesn’t understand the magnitude of what she’s done.”  
  
“I know what I’ve done, Aunt Magica,” Lena said through clenched teeth. “You don’t have to keep reminding me.”  
  
“Yes, I do, you impertinent whelp. You failed your family over a crush. You’re the reason Poe’s dead. You killed your own father. I hope you’re happy.”  
  
“Leave her alone, Magica,” Gladstone growled. “You’re making me want to reconsider Bonding with you. If you think I’d let you take out your sadistic nature on an innocent child--”  
  
“She’s not innocent!” Magica retorted.  
  
“She didn’t mean to let this happen,” Gladstone said and then his eyes narrowed. “And I know the only reason you’re blaming her is that you’re shifting the blame off yourself so you don’t have to feel guilty.”  
  
“Her? Feel guilty?” Lena scoffed. “She sure as hell doesn’t feel guilty for torturing me for over a decade.”  
  
“That’s another thing,” he said. “You need to stop taking out your aggressions on her. You want to pick on someone, pick on someone your own size, Magica. Pick on me.”  
  
“I couldn’t pick on you!” Magica protested. “I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“Yet you have no problem attacking your teenage niece?”  
  
“She hasn’t done what I wanted because she’s so busy fraternizing with her tools. She was supposed to be using Webby, not the other way around!”  
  
“Webby wouldn’t use me,” Lena said and Magica, without having access to her magic, could nonetheless feel the tightness in Lena’s chest. She could feel that she was outraged and, beneath that, terrified that Magica might be right. “Webby cares about me because she isn’t evil like you.”  
  
Damn it, she did not want this to continue. She couldn’t risk revealing her weaknesses in front of Lena and, likewise, she couldn’t risk continuing to berate Lena in front of Gladstone. Those two had never been intended to meet. She trembled, staring at them with her good eye.  
  
“All right, fine, maybe I was venting out my aggressions on Lena because I was frustrated I couldn’t help Poe,” she relented. “And perhaps I’d be a little sorry if she perished. Maybe a smidgen. Not that much.”  
  
Gladstone looked satisfied, but Lena wasn’t buying it.  
  
“Why are you even down here, Lena?” Magica snorted. “What’s the matter? Webster won’t give you the time of day?”  
  
“Because I’m a masochist, apparently,” Lena muttered.  
  
Magica recalled when Poe had been in his humanoid form, right after Lena had been born, and she’d been crying in his arms. He’d brushed his fingers along her cheek and she’d quieted. He’d been so tender and loving with his daughter and all Magica remembered was being filled with resentment and envy. No one had ever looked at her the way Poe looked at Lena; like Lena was his whole world.  
  
“Maybe you should leave us to talk,” Gladstone suggested and then reached out to touch Lena’s shoulder in what he probably thought was a conciliatory fashion. Lena jerked back, out of his reach, and Magica smirked. The fear of touch came from her. She was proud to have instilled it in her, although she was also irritated that Lena derived so much comfort from Webby’s touch. She wished she’d killed the brat when she’d had the chance.  
  
Lena gave Magica a sour look. “I’ll be around.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Magica retorted. “Little traitor.”  
  
“You put me in an impossible situation--”  
  
“Because you were the only one who could help and you screwed it all up!”  
  
“I’m not your puppet or your pawn, Aunt Magica.”  
  
“No, because at least then they would do what they were told!”  
  
“It’s not my fault I fell in love with her, okay? She’s the first person to have treated me decently in my entire life--”  
  
“That’s not true.”  
  
“What, are you going to tell me you had a kind side? Because I don’t believe it.”  
  
“Poe loved you.” It felt like she was wrenching the words out from deep inside and the truth clawed at her insides. “Poe adored you, Lena. Before he was stuck as a bird, he doted on you.”  
  
“Then it’s a shame I don’t remember that, isn’t it?” she growled. “It’s a shame you stole my father away from me.”  
  
“You stole him from me first,” she said and was aware of how petulant she sounded. “He wouldn’t talk to me or do magic with me because he was obsessed with you. I had no choice. I had to keep him by me--he was all the family I had.”  
  
“You got him changed into a bird because you hated me that much,” Lena said flatly. “That’s pretty fucked up, even for you.”  
  
“You should have told me,” Gladstone said. “You aren’t alone, Magica. You should have Bonded with me years ago. I wouldn’t have abandoned you.”  
  
“Yes, well…” Magica faltered. “Hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it?”  
  
“Ugh, I’m not hanging around for this sappy stuff,” Lena said. “I’m out.”  
  
“I’m sure your darling Wendy won’t be hanging around for you, either,” Magica said sweetly and Lena cringed.  
  
“Why are you such a bitch…” Lena muttered as she walked off. Magica smirked, watching her go, at least until Gladstone stood in front of her.  
  
“She has magical powers, too, doesn’t she?” he asked in an undertone. “That’s part of why you hate her so much. She could confront you, she doesn’t, and you resent that you need her more than she needs you.”  
  
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, folding her arms across her chest with some difficulty. She couldn’t reach all the way across and gave up the attempt soon after.  
  
“It’s not ridiculous if it’s true,” he replied and leaned into the bars. He brushed his lips against hers and she sighed, grateful that he’d managed to slacken her restraints enough for her to be able to reach him, albeit just barely.  
  
He tilted his head and kissed her again and she kissed him back, pouring her fear and possessiveness and uncertainty into the kiss.  
  
“I’ll get you out of here,” he said, stepping back. “I promise.”  
  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Gladstone,” she cautioned.  
  
“And be nicer to your niece,” he said, shaking his head. “No wonder she hates you.”  
  
Magica snorted. “I can’t make any promises there either.”


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end...my friend, the end. XD

It wasn’t what he had had in mind, but he supposed things could have been much worse. Besides, though he didn’t yet love Lena, he suspected that Webby’s affection for her would help him grow fond of her in some fashion. Webby was tireless in her efforts to keep Lena and Dewey by her side and to demonstrate how much she cared and loved both of them. One day, she’d gone missing, much to their distress, and when she returned, Lena reported that Webby had destroyed her old hole in the wall living quarters. Clearly, Webby had no intention of letting Lena return there.

 

The Bonding ceremony, such as it was, would have to wait until Webby was capable of speech without upsetting her stitches. The official Ceremony would link them mind, body, and soul. The unofficial part of it, the consummation, hadn’t happened yet because every time Dewey brought it up, Webby went scarlet and stammered something. Lena shot Dewey knowing looks but didn’t help him out either.

 

The affair itself was a bit more complex than normal. While threeway relationships were not unheard of in Dragonburg, they were also not very common. Della had presided over the ceremony, along with Mrs. Beakley--Della also stood in for Lena’s relatives. Ceremonies usually required the traditional matrimonial stuff mixed with magic spells. (Scrooge was not too fond of even Bond magic, though Dewey had caught his gaze drifting to Goldie time and time again). As the magic spells were meant to be two-directional, they’d needed to be converted into a multi-focal point arc.

 

All told, though, Dewey was glad when it was over. No one was letting him DJ, nor was he allowed to plan much of it out. Huey had insisted on that and Louie had been in charge of the guest list. Scrooge hated that there needed to be a party in the first place, even if he understood the necessity of it. He’d spent much of the afternoon grumbling while Mrs. Beakley occasionally teased him and Duckworth popped up to say something to him. Dewey wasn’t sure what, but it did temper Scrooge a bit.

 

And there was cake. And dancing. Della even managed to dance a couple numbers, not very quickly, but it was more than she’d been capable of for years. Unfortunately for her, there was no avoiding the amorous Launchpad, who insisted on a few dances of his own. Donald had cut in during the second one, telling Launchpad his sister was too tired, and if breathing fire during one’s reception wasn’t a sign of bad luck, he would’ve probably tried to incinerate Launchpad. Della was Donald’s younger sister, after all. (By two minutes or something like that.)

 

With everyone otherwise occupied, Dewey cast a glance down the table at the brides. Webby was gushing over a map with Lena leaning over her shoulder. Dewey shifted in his seat so he was at Webby’s other side.

 

“That’s where Uncle Scrooge and Goldie are going,” Webby told them. “If Glomgold doesn’t try to beat them there.”

 

“They’re taking off right after the reception, if they don’t end up doing something I don’t want to think about before then,” Dewey said.

 

“You don’t want to think about it with them, but you keep dropping not so subtle hints at us,” Lena scoffed. She squeezed Webby’s shoulder and then pecked her on the cheek.

 

“I thought I was subtle?”

 

“You’re not,” Webby said without looking up.

 

“We’re supposed to consummate it after the ceremony,” he said and he was aware that he was whining.

 

“We will, blue,” Lena huffed, but a smirk played at her lips. She seemed to be luxuriating in touching Webby as often as she wanted and was currently playing with Webby’s ribbon. Webby was aware of it and Dewey didn’t miss her soft sighs. It made him feel a little possessive, but, at the same time, he really wanted to get the hell out of here so they could finish the Bonding ritual. And that part had to be done in private.

 

“We’ll consummate and then we’ll go,” Webby said. She turned her head and kissed Lena’s neck. Then she grabbed Dewey’s hands and squeezed. She was their lodestone and he would follow her anywhere. Well, he would once hormones were satisfied. How was she not feeling that too?

 

“I am,” she said, sensing his thoughts. The Bonding ceremony had meant that they could feel the gist of their thoughts, but they needed the ritual completed before they could speak mind to mind. “But I want to do this first. Adventures awaits.”

 

She smiled back at Dewey. “And your mom might be able to accompany us for the first time in forever.”

 

Yeah, Dewey did not want to think about his mom right now, thank you very much. He glanced back at her and then at Louie, who was attempting to hussle. Dewey decided he didn’t want to know what his younger brother was doing.

 

Huey, meanwhile, was pacing about and ensuring that everyone was enjoying their food and that things were proceeding according to the correct timeline. If something was a hair off, Dewey knew his older brother would wig out.

 

“Can’t we duck out already?” Dewey complained.

 

“You want to leave your own wedding reception early?” Lena teased.

 

“Yes, I do!”

 

“We could always disappear for a few minutes…” Webby relented.

 

“A few minutes? Do you really think that’s all it’ll take?” he sputtered, indignant.

 

Lena sized Dewey up and then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

 

Dewey flushed scarlet. “I can so last more than a few minutes!”

 

“Didn’t need to hear that, Dewey!” Huey called as he passed them.

 

Lena was horribly smug and he intended to wipe that look off her face as soon as possible. He tugged at his clothes and then groaned, looking at their dresses. “We’re gonna need help getting our outfits off, aren’t we?”

 

“Probably,” Webby said. “Good thing there’s three of us, then.”

 

“I’m not gonna be the problem,” he pointed out. “You’re the ones wearing corsets and all those layers. How did you even get dressed?”

 

“Experience,” Lena said at the same time as Webby said, “We had help.”

 

“This might take long enough that someone would notice if we were missing…” he hesitated.

 

“We could always find out,” Lena said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Webby’s gaze matched hers and Dewey jumped to his feet. The party was in full swing and perhaps he was right. Perhaps no one would notice their absence. Without glancing at the crowd, he led Lena and Webby out of the room. As he did, he was aware of eyes upon them.

 

“Uh...we’re just going to the bathroom. Together. That isn’t weird, right?” Dewey said, looking to the girls for help. Lena snorted.

 

“Totally normal wedding stuff, blah blah blah,” Webby added. “Party on without us.”

 

“You two are terrible at lying,” Lena said, shaking her head. “Why don’t you just wave a giant sign that says, ‘We’re skipping out’?”

 

“Wait, is that an option?” he asked and she groaned.

 

“Try to look less suspicious,” she advised, knowing that it was hopeless. “C’mon, people.”

 

Somehow, she ended up leading them, although he doubted she had any more experience in this area than they did. And if she did, Webby was going to be rather upset. But he doubted it. Lena had had feelings for Webby forever. She never would’ve even considered someone else, not for a second.

 

So although they were skipping out, there were knowing glances that Dewey hated. He reddened further, resembling a tomato, and Webby blushed too. Lena was, to his shock, likewise flushed, but she held her head up high. She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but she still held her head up. Dewey was oddly proud of her.

 

At least there was one good thing he could say about this. It had completely taken everyone’s mind off Magica. Everyone except Gladstone, that was, who was supposed to Fly with her and perform the Bonding ceremony before everyone met and decided her fate. It would be less harsh with Gladstone Bonded to her, but Dewey was willing to bet it’d be bad enough, regardless.

 

“Not thinking about that either!” Lena hissed at Dewey.

 

“Not thinking about what?” Webby asked, whose mind must’ve been on another topic.

 

“Never mind,” Dewey and Lena said in unison and then stifled groans. So it began, the sharing of the minds.

 

Dewey cast one last glance back at the party as they walked out of the room. His mother was standing and talking to Launchpad (who still wouldn’t leave her alone, damn the man was persistent), Scrooge and Goldie were slow dancing, Louie was grifting, and Huey was fussing. It looked like a tableau and he couldn’t resist a smile.

 

“What?” Lena asked.

 

“Nothing,” he said. It was that for this one moment, this one perfect moment, everything in the universe seemed exactly as it should be.


End file.
